


Lullaby Behind the Lines

by Kyriemryn



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Nazi Germany, Alternate Universe - World War II, Angst, Antisemitism, Blood and Violence, Character Death, Child Abuse, Child Soldiers, Concentration Camps, Explicit Language, F/M, Gen, Human Experimentation, Language Barrier, Nazis, Not super focused on romance, POV Reiner Braun, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Sexism, Physical Abuse, Reiner Braun & Annie Leonhart Are Related, Reiner Braun-centric, Sexual Abuse, Suicide, Twins, World War II
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:35:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 40,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28675308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyriemryn/pseuds/Kyriemryn
Summary: Germany, 1945. A nation lost, a nation dying. Deserters abound, but some desperately cling to the last remnants of the Reich.In a final attempt to gain an advantage, Reiner Braun, Annie Braun, Marcel Galliard, and Bertholdt Hoover are sent out as child soldiers; they're given directives to take down enemy squads - should they fail, they imperil their families' lives. However, as they try and complete their mission, it becomes increasingly harder when they grow close to the enemy.It doesn't take long for them to consider treason, and for that, they risk it all.
Relationships: Bertolt Hoover/Annie Leonhart, Levi/Hange Zoë, Mikasa Ackerman & Reiner Braun, Mikasa Ackerman/Reiner Braun, Pieck Finger/Porco Galliard
Comments: 38
Kudos: 79





	1. The Beginning of the End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before I start this fic, I want to make it clear that I mean no disrespect to those who actually had to go through World War II/were affected by it. It was horrible, and it isn't something to make light of, which is why I'll try and keep it appropriately accurate to what occurred (with a few stretches for plot purposes).
> 
> And, this should be obvious, but character views don't necessarily reflect the author's own values. Since this is going to be a gritty fic, I want to make sure that's understood. So, as a WARNING: Racism (slurs and the like), sexism, homophobia, violence, child abuse (including child sexual abuse, but this is only alluded to and barely in the fic), gore/blood, experimentation, and other various dark themes will all be heavily present. It’s all period-typical, which is to say, downright terrible. If you’re bothered by this - and it will be extreme - it would be best to leave the fic now, because I won’t be including any more warnings (to avoid spoilers). 
> 
> A few other notes: 
> 
> \- General Calvi is the main villain in this. He’ll be OOC, taking the place of a Nazi SS doctor, Hauptsturmführer Sigmund Rascher. Magath will also be semi-OOC. 
> 
> \- Ymir will be genderbent/older - I need her to be with a certain group, and it isn't realistically possible unless she's male. 
> 
> \- This will all be written in English. I can’t speak/write German. However, I may include a few German words here and there. 
> 
> \- Character races have changed, for obvious reasons. Eldians are (usually) Jews. Marleyans are Germans. 
> 
> \- Obviously, Americans aren’t the only people to have participated in WWII, but for my own research-based needs, our main characters will mainly be interacting with American squads (plus a few additions). 
> 
> \- This isn’t really about romance, but it is included. Reiner and Mikasa will be the main focus, as Reiner is the main character here. We’ll only be following the story through his eyes. 
> 
> \- Annie and Reiner are twins! No Mr. Leonhart :( 
> 
> \- A few changes have been made to characters to make it fit with the story, they’ll be clear in time. 
> 
> \- Further notes will be included in future chapters!

He stood on the steps of his father’s home, fist pressed against the door, knuckles brushing against the rough wood, a shudder passing from his spine to the tips of his fingers. 

He wasn’t supposed to be there. 

But he had to be. 

Biting down on his tongue, trying to fight off the surging temptation to leave and never return, he pulled back the iron door knocker and let it fall against itself. Twice. 

While apprehensive, he had come there because hope demanded it. Whatever he faced in that house would be far less terrifying than what was occurring outside of it.

He looked back on the fires. Large pyres of books, flames licking at the parchment, melting away treasonous words with a simple strike of a match. The sparks would climb into the sky like desperate prayers, the last remnants of dreams and knowledge and tales of old fading away as embers died. 

He remembered whispered words in the backstreets of Rosenheim. Figures dressed in uniform, and those that were without. Exchanging notes with brief swipes of the hand, never expecting a child’s eyes to watch them as they did so. 

He recalled the bodies. The ones that hung from ropes and danced in the wind - marionettes with strings connected to their sins. The signs said things, things he couldn’t yet read, but knew meant ‘criminal.’ Desertion, espionage, looting. Der Jude, der Russe, der Roma. 

He thought about his friends. The families he had known and no longer knew. Some had disappeared when he was young, and he found himself too old to picture their faces. Others left later. After their fathers had either gone missing or been dragged away by those military men, those men with their red bands and lightning marks. The Geheime Staatspolizei. The Gestapo. Even the children too, with their mothers crying out, had been taken. 

He no longer had friends. 

But, more than anything, he considered his mother. She was confident that they’d survive; yet, with every new attempt at showing him the truth of their heritage, he grew to be fearful and jumpy rather than guilty and compliant. 

It had been two years since she had taken him to see the film, but he could pick out each image and each word as if it had occurred only a few hours ago.

_\/__\/__\/_

Rats came pouring out of the sewer, a sea of undulating bodies scratching at one another as each tried to push to the top of the pack, only to begin drowning again. He could see their little claws tearing into the flesh of their brethren; he could see their shiny eyes, bulbous and runny; he could see their feet scrabble at the stone, running forward, taking over the street in a matter of seconds.

He could see a crowd of Jews, sickly in their appearance and numerous in their amount. He could see them swarm over the roads, appearing like skeletal apparitions as they moved forward as one. Their faces were gaunt, their eyes large- 

He listened as the man spoke. 

_"Among the animals, rats represent the rudiment of an insidious, underground destruction – just like the Jews among human beings."_

He felt faint tears trail down his face, and he touched the wetness to see if it was real. 

_“This film shows the Jews as they really are, before they conceal themselves behind the mask of the civilized European.”_

He had not meant to cry.

_“Therein lies the dreadful danger, for even these 'civilised' Jews remain foreign bodies in the organism of their hosts, no matter how much their outward appearance may correspond to that of their hosts.”_

“Don’t cry.” His mother reached up and touched his face, brushing his hair behind his ears, wiping away the trails of tears that threatened to stain his cheeks a dangerous red. “Don’t cry, Reiner. We know it’s true, don’t we?” 

He nodded, mute, watching the images flick by on the screen. 

Sad eyes stared back at him, and for the first time in his life, he felt truly afraid. _He_ was one of them. He was a Jewish rat, and Jewish rats were hunted. The worst of them were those that hid behind masks. And there, in the German theater in Munich, he clung to his mother with a mask upon his face - pretending to be Aryan, pretending he deserved a chance at life. 

His mother shifted him to her other side, unaware of her son's hatred for himself. 

She would not have cared. 

“Watch the film, Little Warrior. Watch it and see the truth of what we are. We’re _parasites_. Don’t you get it?” 

_I don’t feel like a parasite._

But those words would’ve fallen on deaf ears - both his own and his mother’s. He had realized a single truth; no matter how much he tried to convince himself he was a good person, the world would always tell him otherwise. He was part Jew, part German, and with that single drop of insidious blood, he couldn’t hope for a normal life. 

It was dangerous, living as he was, pretending to be a German in Nazi territory. Not that he could wrap his mind around it at five - No, all he knew was the simple fact of life. He was hated, for reasons that he couldn’t control, and he needed to pretend like he wasn’t. He needed to convince himself that all was just right in his life. That he was fine, that his mother was fine, that his sister was fine, that _all_ of them were _just fine._

And maybe it would have been easier had his mother not told him the truth. But, when he was three, when Kristallnacht destroyed Jewish communities in a single night, he had wondered why his friends were leaving. And Karina Braun, in all her wisdom, told him what he was. She wanted him to _know_ , and she wanted him to realize the _sin_ of being such a thing. 

Their ancestry may have told them they were Jewish, but Karina was determined to be German. And she did not mind slandering her race to get there - she wanted her children to feel guilty, to look toward a brighter future rather than a darker one, and to do that, they needed to know their origins. They needed to know how evil they _really_ were. 

And Reiner believed her. He believed her as she brushed away his tears and turned his face toward the screen, continuing to run a hand through his blond hair, continuing to bless him for looking like a German. 

The Nuremberg Laws had been the beginning of the end, but Karina was determined to survive, even at the expense of her own childrens’ peace of mind. 

_They were Aryan enough, they were Aryan enough, they were Aryan enough._

“They just look so sad,” Reiner’s tiny voice spoke up, finally freed of all constraints, wavering as he stared into the eyes of hungry children and sick women. 

Karina stopped her ministrations, clutching at his head with thin fingers. “No, Reiner, they don’t.”

Reiner paused, staring at his mother with bright golden eyes, still damp from drying tears, “Oh…” He turned back to the screen. “Okay.”

Silence followed, but Karina never turned away from her son. She searched his face as he watched, she looked for any hint of disgust, any hint of hatred, but she only saw sorrow - a dangerous notion to have while looking at the degenerate race. 

But when Hitler’s final words closed the film, when he saluted the roaring black-and-white crowds and spoke, she saw his face change once more. 

_"... the annihilation of the Jewish race in Europe!"_

He was scared. 

And she smiled.

_\/__\/__\/_

After a few moments of waiting, he decided to try out the handle. It was unlocked, so, taking a deep breath, he walked through the entryway, looking around himself.

The house was surprisingly large, much bigger than Reiner’s cramped apartment near the railway station - he had to live there with his mother, sister, cousin, and aunt, which left no room for the growing boy. 

He noticed the stairwell first, a grand piece that circled its way up to the highest level. He could see hints of further rooms, a whole host of doors that were a shining cherry - he wondered what types of wonders laid beyond them. A bed that could fit five and still have space for more? A washroom with a bath that was larger than their kitchen at home? A smoking lounge with velvety curtains? What about a ballroom? He hoped it existed - a place of gold, glistening walls and a chandelier made of thousands of pieces of glass. 

When he shifted his gaze to what was right in front of him, he began to recognize how uncomfortable he felt. His shoes were ratty, his clothing scrunched up with a years-worth of wrinkles embedded in folds. He was wearing a simple cap, but he took it off when he realized how inappropriate it was to continue wearing it. 

Reiner was out of place among the riches of his father’s home. 

He was out of place whether he was in his father’s house or not. 

As he scrunched up the wool in his hands, shutting the door behind himself, he heard the tell-tale clicking of boots against wood. And then, a figure. “Apologies Hauptsturmführer Calvi, my aide wasn’t-” 

The man paused, an imposing figure, far taller than Reiner. He had a firm face, one adorned with a neatly trimmed beard, although there was a lack of hair on his scalp. His eyes, his eyes were what caused Reiner to fully realize there was no going back. He couldn’t leave. He couldn’t escape. He needed to see this through. That dark hazel scanned him with calculation, and when his father had his fill, he took a single step forward, eyes growing cold. 

“D-” He paused, his throat closing. No. No, it would be just fine. His father would help them. He’d protect them. And they’d finally get to be a family. “Dad, I wanted to- We- We’re in trouble and I-”

“Who do you think you are?” It was a simple question, but Reiner began to stammer. Did he not know? Did he not recognize him? He didn’t think it was possible. They may not have had all the same features, but their noses, their eyes, their eyebrows; it was undeniable. 

Reiner took a few steps forward, trying to meet his father in the hallway, trying to make him understand that he could save their family, that he could save them all. He knew he’d help, right? That’s what fathers did, they protected. And he had always dreamed, he had always hoped that- 

Before he was able to comprehend what was happening, he felt his shirt being tugged at, a firm fist wrapped in the fabric, pulling him upwards to where he had to balance on his tiptoes. “Who the fuck do you think you are? Coming in here, saying I’m your father? You’re a _fucking Jew_.” It didn’t matter that knowing he was a jew confirmed everything Reiner was saying; it didn’t matter at all. 

Reiner grasped at his father’s fist, trying to peel the man’s fingers away, speaking breathlessly, “You can help us! You can-!”

He released his grip and Reiner stumbled, falling onto the wooden floor. His father had turned to look at something, and when Reiner shifted to the right, he could see the figure of a woman watching. “Get the Gestapo on the line.” The woman hesitated. “Do it. Now.” She moved, retreating back from whence she came. 

“Listen to me.” Reiner bit his trembling lip as he felt his father’s fingers dig into his chin to force him to look up. “Do you understand what you’ve done? If they found out I fucked a Jew-”

_Rassenschande._

“I’ll be sent to a- Goddammit.” He pulled his hand away from Reiner’s face and clenched his fists together, as if contemplating whether he wanted to beat the boy for his impudence. “Marie?”

The woman called back in a trembling voice, “Yes, they’re here for you!” 

He moved to head back to the phone, but Reiner was determined to get what he came for, launching himself at his father’s pants, grabbing onto his leg for dear life - which, in a way, he truly was. “Please! Please dad! Annie, Mom, and I need you.”

His father continued toward the phone, letting the boy drag behind him. “We’re being hunted! We’ll be killed! We just need somewhere to stay hidden, and since-”

“Since you think I’m your father?” He halted and kicked Reiner back onto the floor. “You made the wrong choice coming here boy.”

Reiner pulled himself up, rubbing at his face where the sharp-toed boot connected, feeling sticky blood begin to form where his skin had broken. “I’ll do anything!” He was becoming desperate, although he didn’t remember a time when he wasn’t; as each day passed, his terror grew. 

On that day, everything had fallen apart. It had been too much for him. He’s seen corpses plenty, all children had during wartime, but the body of that toddler with the yellow star- 

He feared for his life. 

His father didn’t reply, taking the rotary phone from his wife's - she must have been his wife - outstretched hands and speaking to a man on the other line. “This is the household of Kriminalkommissar… Yeah, we’ve got a rat...” The voice faded as his father walked away, and Reiner sat there, holding his face in his hands as tears threatened to spill over. He had just wanted… he had just wanted them all to be a family. But- 

No, there was no doubt, he had heard _‘Kriminalkommissar.’_

His father was no ally to the Jews. 

Maybe if he convinced him. Maybe if he stood up and acted like a good son, promised to make him proud, promised that he’d do everything to be a loyal Aryan- Because otherwise… otherwise he had messed up. The term ‘Gestapo’ had not slipped from his mind, and he briefly considered running out the door to the fields and hoping that he wouldn’t be pursued. 

But now his father knew they existed. He had said his name, and his family’s names. He’d likely try and be fully clean of them, no matter what. No amount of running would change anything. 

And he couldn’t- He couldn’t deal with all of it! He was seven. He was seven years old, overwhelmed, bleeding, and confused. This wasn’t what he imagined their first meeting would be, not at all. He had expected wide eyes, surprise, and then a smile, not a frown. He had expected his father to come running, to pick him up and hold him, tell him he missed him so much, his long lost son. He wanted to hear those comforting words, words that assured him he’d be safe, his sister would be safe, and his mother would be safe. He longed for it, and now that he knew it wasn’t going to happen - he messed up, he messed up, he messed up; what could he have said instead, what could he have done to fix it? - he began to sob. They were silent sobs at first, coughing, hacking, trying to take in breath when he wasn’t able to. And then the tears flowed and he folded into himself on the floor. 

_No, no, no, no._ This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. And now, now his fears were all going to come true. Unless, how could he convince his dad? How could he-? 

“Shut up.” His father had entered the hallway again, stepping over to the boy, grabbing his collar to pull him to his feet. “You’ll stand at attention when the Gestapo comes, and you’ll do everything they say. Understand?” 

Reiner nodded immediately, trying to please him in any way he could, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m-”

“Shut the fuck up.” 

He did.

_\/__\/__\/_

It seemed to be an hour before the soldiers arrived, when it couldn’t have been more than ten minutes. There were two, a pencil thin man with cold blue eyes and a heavyset man with slicked back hair. After saluting his father - he must have been a rank higher than them, not that Reiner really understood it all - they peered at the supposed rat. One of them noted the blood, to which his father only said the degenerate had tried attacking him.

“Herr Kriminalkommissar,” the larger man began slowly, picking out the best words to be as respectful as possible while also communicating his meaning, “You said this boy was a Jew?”

One look at Reiner and he didn’t want to touch the sniffling boy. He was, after all, the picture of an Aryan, minus those bright blue eyes. 

Before Reiner’s father could speak, however, the thin man waved his partner away. “It’s no matter. Jews are parasites, brilliant at hiding in plain sight.” He walked over to Reiner and leaned down, patting the boy’s clothes before he found what he was looking for - papers. When he grabbed them, he tossed them over to the other soldier and stared down, standing tall, making Reiner feel weak and helpless. “Check those.”

It took a moment of flipping through, but then the heavier man shook his head. “Says he’s as Aryan as they come.”

Reiner’s father’s eyes widened and he held out a hand - had he not expected the documents to be forged? - speaking up to save himself the embarrassment of being wrong. “There’s another way.”

The blue-eyed man paused and then grinned at the implication, following his meaning. He gave a small nod to the Kriminalkommissar and reached down to yank at Reiner’s pants, to which the boy let out a small yelp, stepping back. “What? You want to do it yourself?”

“Mm-M- I- W-Why?” He was stumbling over his words, barely able to move his tongue, grasping at the top of his pants, holding them close to his body. He had been told to never, ever, ever, let them check there. His mother had said his papers would always be enough, if they even asked in the first place, but now- 

The soldier frowned, becoming impatient. “You don’t have anything to hide, right…” He paused and looked over to his partner who shared the name on the papers. “Reiner Braun?” He set a comforting hand on his shoulder, although it felt more like the talons of an eagle to the boy. 

“N-No, but I don’t-” While the hand of the soldier felt like a bird of prey grasping at him, his father’s tense grip felt like the weight of the entire world had been placed upon him. His father had said to listen to them without question, if he didn’t, he knew there'd be further trouble. He just wanted… He wanted to make his father happy, he wanted to improve the situation, so, swallowing his discomfort, he pulled his pants down. 

The man waited, and waited, and then with a sigh of exasperation, grabbed Reiner’s briefs and pulled those down too, to which the child immediately reached to cover himself up. By then, it was too late, and the thin man stood up, taking a few steps back. “A rat is a rat, no matter what mask they wear.” He paused and looked toward Reiner’s father. “Incredible detective work Herr Kriminalkommissar. I can see a promotion being in your future.” 

“I’ll drink to that.” His father had visibly relaxed, removing his hands from Reiner’s shivering body. 

The blue-eyed man turned to his partner and grabbed the papers from him. “Ever seen a Jew dick before?” The soldier shook his head and he was pulled along, both getting close to Reiner who was now trying to pull up his clothing, trying to save himself from his embarrassment. 

“No, no, _no_ , Jude. Keep them down. Let us look, hm?” Reiner turned red at the prolonged staring, his body burning, not understanding what they meant. Was he different? What was wrong? Why did they-? 

But when the thin one reached out to touch him, Reiner had had enough and tried to stumble away. It didn’t matter though, as his partner grabbed his hand. “You want to be castrated? Bad enough having people think you’re a faggot.”

He chuckled, removing his partner’s hand from his clothes, “I’m far too Aryan for them to care.” Still, it made him shift gears and return to the matter of Reiner’s papers. “Who forged these for you?” 

Reiner could only cough out a few unintelligible words, his crying taking precedence. 

“Alright, another question then,” The man let Reiner scrabble at the ground, grabbing his pants to desperately try and hide himself from their gazes - like he was some sort of zoo animal, only there to entertain. “Your family. Annie Braun, Karina Braun. Are there any other parasites living with you?” 

Reiner began to shake his head - no, no, he’d already messed up, he couldn’t get his cousin and aunt into this. 

“It’s not an issue. We’re going to your home anyway.” He flipped the little book shut and stuffed it back into Reiner’s coat, patting his cheek, smearing some of the blood that hadn’t yet dried. “Run along now. Go tell your family we're coming.” He stood up, shouldering his gun. “You’ve got a long trip ahead of you, and I wouldn't want you to miss it. None of your family, preferably, otherwise we'll have to chase after you.” The man mimed shooting a pistol into the distance before smiling at the blond.

Reiner looked back at his father for some sort of reassurance, but the man had moved on, staring at the floor instead. So, he only nodded, slipping on his pant legs as he got to his feet. He pulled the fabric up the rest of the way, zipping it, clasping the button, situating his coat, trying to pretend like he hadn’t just been stared at like he was some sort of… _lesser thing._

He sent one last look back at his father, but he was already gone, retreating into his home of riches and safety. He’d receive no help. He’d done something wrong, somehow, and he didn’t know how he could fix it now. Still, he needed to warn his family, he needed to make sure they were okay, and for that, he’d have to run to beat the Gestapo cars. 

As he fled, jumping from step to step, feeling the cold night air attack his face, he heard the larger soldier speak, “Better wash those hands of yours. Got fucking Jew blood all over them.” 

Then laughter. 

He ran to escape it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of an edit here! I figured I should add a few clarifications for words/phrases/references used in the chapter from now on. They'll be pretty brief, but still- 
> 
> Rosenheim: A city in southern Germany, southeast of Munich. 
> 
> Geheime Staatspolizei/Gestapo: The secret police of Nazi Germany and all territories occupied by them. Heinrich Himmler, the head of the Schutzstaffel (SS), oversaw them. 
> 
> Kristallnacht: A violent riot carried out by German Civilians and SA (Sturmabteilung) forces against Jewish communities. German authorities did nothing to stop it. (November 9th - November 10th, 1938, Reiner was 3 at the time). 
> 
> Der Ewige Jude/The Eternal Jew: An actual antisemitic propaganda film, viewed as being a documentary. All of the film quotes I included in this chapter come directly from the script. 
> 
> Hauptsturmführer: The same rank as a Captain in other armies - senior to the rank of Obersturmführer. Even doctors could have this rank, as seen in the case of Sigmund Rascher (Calvi, in this case). 
> 
> Rassenschande: These laws were adopted on September 15, 1935. A month or so after Reiner was born. So, technically, it wouldn't apply to Reiner's father, but even then, he's paranoid and extremely worried about losing his position should the relation be discovered. Under these laws, those who had sexual relations with non-Aryans would be publicly humiliated (walked through the streets with a placard around their neck, stating their crime) and sent to a concentration camp to do hard labor for a specific period of time. 
> 
> Kriminalkommissar: Specific rank in the Kriminalpolizei (Kripo) (A criminal investigation department overseen by the SS). Reiner has been a Kriminalkommissar for less than three years, so he's equal in rank to an Obersturmführer. Which, is a rank lower than a Hauptsturmführer. 
> 
> Circumcision: Many Nazis used this to determine whether or not a boy was a practicing Jew. In Reiner's case, it was found that he was circumcised, and therefore, a Jew. 
> 
> Homosexuality in the SS: By 1935, any expression of homosexuality was illegal, and that included looking at a member of the same sex in an 'enticing way'; However, Himmler was inconsistent when it came to who was defined as a homosexual among the ranks of the SS. Usually, those that were very masculine/Aryan could sway judges and avoid punishment.


	2. Mischlings

Reiner distantly remembered a time when he wasn’t worried about being killed. He was young, and he had very few memories to convince him it actually happened, but he knew that it was a happier time. A time when he could smile with his sister, laugh with his mother, and play with his friends. 

He was born before the Nuremberg Laws were enacted, only a month before, and he had to fight his twin sister for the honor of being first. He believed she held it against him for years afterward - she never really got along with a brother who was too happy, too active, and way too sensitive for his own good. 

But at times, they managed to get past their differences, working together to avoid the cruelty of the world. Reiner would suggest heading down a different path in Rosenheim streets, avoiding a few drunken members of the Orpo. Annie would shove him to the side and start a fight so that he wouldn’t see the dog that was bleeding out, shot for fun. They helped each other, although Reiner was too scared of Annie’s reaction to admit it, and Annie would downright refuse such a claim. 

It had been his mother, his sister, and himself for as long as he could remember. He thought there had been someone before, an older man with a comforting voice and a book that spoke of God, but when he asked his mother about him, she’d completely avoid the topic, and he’d since decided it was a figment of his imagination. 

Then his aunt had joined them in their home - his uncle having left to serve the Fatherland. She was pregnant at that time, heavily so, and he only remembered it because he had been a member of the temporary medical force, transporting water and cloth. It was all he could do at five, and at five, he wasn’t able to handle the sight of a bloody baby. He didn’t touch Gabi for a few days afterward, his mind always travelling to the rather ugly sight of the recently-exited-the-womb newborn. 

Annie dealt with it better than he had, absently putting her hand on the baby’s face once she was cleared to do so, petting her with the entirety of her palm. She said she disliked the little thing - ‘She’s gross and wrinkly and cries way too much’ - but Reiner knew she showed affection through unconventional ways, and it was clear every time she was around her. 

Eventually, Reiner warmed up to the idea of having a cousin, and when he held Gabi for the first time, he was absolutely taken with her. So much so, that he became rather upset that Annie had started connecting with her first. He made up for it by playing with the baby as often as possible - always supervised, he was young himself - and it filled the apartment with laughter. 

Life was good. It may have been tense, it may have been uncertain, but their family was safe and happy. 

Which was only due to the kindness of Herr Hoover. 

The Brauns had been friends with Hoover’s wife, and when she married Herr Hoover, they all grew close. Hoover worked in the upper echelons of the government, the Reich Interior Ministry - not as much his own choice as something he had to decide on in order to protect his family. His wife was a Jew, working in an armament factory to make sure she wasn’t forced into one of the camps, and his son, Bertholdt, was a Mischling, just like Reiner. It was far too late for Hoover to forge family papers for his wife and son, but for the Brauns he risked his life, making sure there would be no suspicion. 

Reiner didn’t understand much of what was going on behind the scenes, but he did know Bertholdt, and had always been best friends with the tall boy. They grew up together, practically the same age, and were rarely seen apart. After he turned six, however, his mother told him to avoid Bertholdt. ‘It put them at risk.’ No good Aryan would willingly be friends with a Mischling, and even though the Hoover family were under protection of Herr Hoover’s position and Frau Hoover’s job, they weren’t a welcome sight in Rosenheim. 

He already knew that something was wrong with the world, but having to ignore Bertholdt was a turning point - especially when he knew he was exactly the same as him, and the fact that it was only due to Bertholdt’s father that he could walk around like he was a real, pure, German boy. 

While his family acted like nothing was wrong, he stood there, confused. Weren’t they betraying them? Weren’t they leaving their saviors behind? It hadn’t yet occurred to him that associating with the Hoovers could eventually mean his own family’s death. All he cared about was Bertholdt. 

He missed his friend. 

And so, for the next two years, until he was seven, he stayed in the company of his family alone - his mother alone. She spoke words to him, convincing him that, while all was supposedly fine, the Brauns were still _wrong_. They had Jewish blood, they needed to feel guilty for it, they needed to renounce it, and they needed to become the best German citizens they could be. 

And then something happened; he began to acknowledge the world around him. The more he saw, the more he read, the more he learned, the more terrified he became. 

It became too much. He broke. He forgot his mother’s teachings and he escaped to his father - desperate, always desperate. 

She had pointed him out before, when Reiner was younger. He seemed to be normal, just another person among the crowd. But… but he wasn’t. 

It became all too clear to him as he ran out of the house to get to his family.

_\/__\/__\/_

He didn’t know what was right. He didn’t know what he could do to please his father and fix their family. He didn’t know what he could do to make sure Gabi and his aunt were saved from the fate he pushed onto his mother and sister. He didn’t know if he even wanted to - weren’t they supposed to be good Germans? If going on that trip was all it took, then shouldn’t he be willing? His mother had told him, time and time again, to reject his heritage and do what was right for the Fatherland.

Reiner slowed his pace, just slightly. If this was how it was going to be, then maybe he should just- 

No. Just because he wanted to show his mother he could be a good child, one that listened to order and directives - he shivered, trying to ignore the images of the man’s hand flashing through his head - it didn’t mean that he should force Gabi and his aunt to meet the same standards. 

Unless their escape could mean Annie and Karina’s death. 

He ignored the possibility. 

Reiner started sprinting again, hurtling through the countryside toward the lights of the town. He had to leap over a few wooden fences, but they caused little difficulty. He and Bertholdt had often played in the fields of farmers, having to run when spotted; the two had learned, very quickly, that they’d either have to become better at escaping or be prepared to face a few harsh hits from the switch. 

By the time he made it to the railway station, his breathing was harsh, and he had to lean against the brick building to inhale the cool air, calming his heart and stilling his trembling legs. 

All was quiet except for the distant train whistle, and he used its haunting call to get himself focused - to bring himself back to the present. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Another interruption, a voice. It was sudden, and despite being one he recognized, Reiner startled and took a step back, pressing up against the wall. 

Annie. 

What was _she_ doing there? Especially when their mother had instructed them to get home before night fell? And based on the dimming light, Annie was ignoring those instructions completely. 

Annie kicked at one of his shoes, trying to get him to reply, until she noticed his tear-stained face, spots of dried blood crusting and flaking off where he’d rubbed at it. “What happened?” 

As always, she was brief, showing very little sympathy for his situation, while still remaining curious. He knew she cared, secretly - or maybe, he only wished for that to be true - but she’d never show it. Not to him, not to his mother, not to anyone. 

While his first reaction to Annie’s appearance was to wonder _why_ , he quickly became panicked, fingers digging into the brick of the station, pulling himself up to his full height - which wasn’t much, even compared to his sister, “I-We’ve gotta get home. Right now. Annie-” The tears came again, and they drowned out his message. 

“Stop. Don’t cry. I don’t like crying.” Annie quit kicking at his boot, grabbed his wrist, dragged him away from the wall toward the road, and headed in the direction of their home while shaking her head to someone in the distance - not that Reiner would’ve noticed. “What happened.” More a statement than a question. 

Reiner forced down his tears to answer her, “I went to Dad’s.”

That caused Annie to halt in place, Reiner stumbling forward at the unexpected movement. 

A pregnant pause. 

“You did what?”

“I went to-”

“I _understood that_ ,” Annie gripped his wrist, digging her nails into his skin, “You did _what_?”

Reiner rubbed his nose with his sleeve, stifling his sniffles. “You saw it, Annie. You were there, you were with me! That kid, she was just- She was shot right there, right through the head. And for what? Being a Jew? _We’re_ Jews Annie. We’re horrible people. We deserve to die. But I just, I selfishly want to live, I want _us_ to live, and so I-” 

Annie grit her teeth, looking at her twin with something in her eye - reproach, disgust, anger? “They already _knew_ she was a Jew - she’d been hiding in that basement for who knows how long. What about us, Reiner? What’s the difference between us and her?” 

He hesitated. She was younger than them, she didn’t appear to have any family, she looked like a Jew. His thoughts were interrupted. 

“We were safe. We’ve always been safe! Nobody knew about us, and nobody was going to.”

“But what if they did? What if they figured out the records were fake? What if they measured our heads and our noses and our eyes? What if they-” He didn’t say the last question. It had already happened, and he didn’t want to think about it. 

“You and mom hate Jews enough for all of us. Nobody would question our dedication to the Fatherland,” She stopped and shook her head, “It doesn’t matter. What did you tell them? You didn’t say we were Mischlings, right? You didn’t-” 

“I asked him for help.” _She was going to kill him._ “I thought that if we… If we had a dad to hide us from the world then maybe… B-but he was a- he’s in the SS. And he called the Gestapo and- and they checked my- and they’re coming and I’m _so, so sorry. I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry_.” He was whimpering at the end, dipping his head, already seeing Annie’s arm move to punch him in the jaw - the cold rage in her eyes settling into his bones. 

Before she could rearrange his face, another hand grabbed onto her own, and a tall figure stepped out from the shadows of the alley beside them. “Please don’t, Annie. Please.” 

_Bertholdt._

Reiner startled, raising his head, looking between his sister and his friend. “What are you-? Bertholdt?” 

Annie glared at the boy, throwing her arm down to escape his grip, “You do realize this puts your family in danger too?” 

_Wait, what?_

“Yes,” Bertholdt was calm, calmer than Reiner usually saw him. It may have been a year or so since they had last spent time with one another, but that couldn’t have eliminated the sweating bundle of nerves completely, right? “But our time was almost up anyway.”

Annie glared at him, lips pulled back in a snarl, but backed away, letting both arms fall to her side. However, her hands still formed fists, poised to react the second Reiner stepped out of line - which could be as much as a cough in her general direction. 

“What does that mean, Bertl?” Yet, as soon as he asked it, he knew. He realized what he had done. And his face grew pale. He felt like throwing up - going into the alley beside them, puking out his guts, and lying there, pretending like he hadn’t gone to his father, pretending like he hadn’t undressed in front of those two soldiers, pretending like he hadn’t ruined both his own family’s and Bertholdt’s family’s lives. “Oh God, I- They’ll wonder where we got those paper from and-” 

Bertholdt nodded, lips thin, eyebrows drawn together. But when he met Reiner’s eyes, he smiled, just slightly. Offering assurances that didn’t exist. 

_What have I done?_

“I-I’ll fix it somehow! I can-”

“You’ve done enough,” Annie spat, looking away from Reiner, trying to reign herself in, “You and your need to always be the hero… Maybe it didn’t need fixing! Did you think about that!? Our lives were fine. We were in danger, but we were safe! We had each other!”

Bertholdt once again reached out, but she slapped his hand away, to which he took a few cautious steps back. 

After a period of silence and staring, Annie nodded to herself, “Okay.” She latched onto Reiner’s arm, forcing him forward, purposefully twisting his skin, “Okay. We’ll go home then. We’ll get ready. And I’ll convince mom to leave. No - _We_ will. I don’t want to hear _anything_ about what a good German citizen would do, you got it?”

Reiner hesitated, briefly. “But… we’re Jews, and we need to-”

“Shut up, Reiner. I don’t care what mom told you. It isn’t real. It isn’t true. _Shut up._ ”

He had been told that too much in one day, and he was beginning to think he really shouldn’t talk at all. Anything that came out of his mouth was _wrong_. It was always so, so incredibly wrong. 

“I’m going to my dad, then,” Bertholdt looked away from the pair, staring at the shining moon before turning back. “As long as I can protect him, it’ll be fine.” 

Before he headed through the alley and back to his home, he lightly touched Reiner’s shoulder, perhaps to balance the hatred that was emanating from Annie. “I mean it. It’s been a long time coming.” With that, he disappeared into the darkness, running footfalls echoing against the large brick walls. 

Reiner watched as he left. Despite his words, he didn’t feel any better.

_\/__\/__\/_

When Annie opened the door to their apartment and pushed Reiner through, he fell to his knees, staring at the wooden floor, wishing that he could curl up and avoid the eyes of his mother and aunt. But it was far too late for that. The more he waited there, fingers pressed into the boards, the more he felt their questioning stares.

It was far worse when Gabi waddled over to him, trying to drag him to his feet, “Wainah! Wainah back!”

He so badly wanted to reach out and hold her, to promise her that all would be okay, to find some semblance of normal in a world completely devoid of it, but Annie broke the silence, and with it, the questioning stares turned into ones of terror. 

“They know.”

When Reiner managed to push himself up, to raise his head, to meet his mother’s gaze, he knew nothing would be the same again. 

_“What have you done?”_

He found he had no answer. None at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize I forgot to add the song the title came from, oops! Here it is for anyone interested - https://youtu.be/81e056xaCi8
> 
> Also, more notes:
> 
> Nuremberg Laws: Race laws that were put in place to protect German blood and honor - originally only about Jews, but black people and Romani were included at a slightly later date. 
> 
> Orpo/Ordnungspolizei: Worked as the police force in Nazi, Germany. They were uniformed and fairly easy to spot, unlike the Kripo. Overseen by the SS. 
> 
> Mischling: A person of both Jewish and Aryan ancestry. There were two types, Mischling zweiten Grades (second degree) and Mischling ersten Grades (first degree). Reiner, Annie, and Bertholdt are all first degree Mischlings, meaning they're half Jewish. (In the case of Reiner and Annie, only 3/8ths, which still counts as first degree). They'd be counted as normal citizens, as long as they weren't a member of the Jewish religious community, and, well... Reiner had a grandfather that was very involved. Bertholdt is fully half and would be considered a German citizen if it wasn't for the date that his parents got married (after the Nuremberg Laws were enacted). 
> 
> Finally, just a small update. I'm currently in the process of moving, so any new chapters are going to be a bit slower. I'll still try and get one done for next week, but it may be longer than that - apologies!


	3. Trains and Propositions

It was 1942, and nearly all of Germany’s Jews had been taken from their homes and shipped off to concentration camps. The Brauns had survived up to that point, but their luck had come to a sudden end, and it was all due to the actions of a seven-year-old who didn’t know any better. 

They first gathered their clothing, each putting on multiple layers. First the lightweight fabrics, then the medium, then the heavy. All of them struggled to walk, minus Gabi - completely free of any additional attire - who would have suffocated underneath the piles of shirts and coats. 

The toddler, only two years old, was notably confused, constantly asking her mother and her aunt why they had to leave. Wasn’t it nighttime? Wasn’t she supposed to get a bedtime story and then fall asleep, curled up next to Reiner in the small bed they shared? Where were they going then? She wanted her doll. She wanted her books. She wanted to cling onto all of her belongings, because something about her family felt off. Even Reiner wasn’t looking at her - the boy who would always take time out of his day to spend it with her. 

Reiner avoided her questions, mute since he arrived. He could deal with his mother’s critical gaze, he could even deal with Annie’s hatred, but he couldn’t face his aunt’s panicked desperation or Gabi’s innocent confusion. 

It was all too much. 

So he sat there, on the wooden floor, staring at nothing and thinking about everything. 

He only barely registered his mother placing an oversized woolen hat atop his head, shoving it down so that it would cover his hair. It was far too warm out to wear such a thing, but he didn’t protest. His mother knew things. She knew more than him, more than anyone. He trusted her every word, her every action, and if she told him to wear a winter hat in the summer, he would. If she told him to do anything at all, he knew he’d do it without question. 

It was just who he was, and it was all she had raised him to be.

_\/__\/__\/_

The SS soldiers arrived without warning.

Reiner was pulled along by his mother’s grip, moving as though he were in a dreamlike state. Nothing felt real. Not the clothes that he wore, not the slamming of the door, not the rage from Annie nor the wails from Gabi. He had done something terribly wrong. He realized it, and yet he still couldn’t fully come to terms with it. 

Until he met the gaze of the blue-eyed man. 

He startled and flinched back, awakened from his trance. He didn’t want to speak to the soldier, he didn’t even want to be around him - the mere thought of having to be touched by him again sent Reiner spiraling, and he tried his best to choke back tears. 

He was always crying. 

“Such a good little boy.” The man smiled and lightly touched Reiner’s face, much to the boy’s chagrin. “Look! You’ve even caught a few more for us.” He looked at his aunt and Gabi. “Shame you aren’t Aryan - you’d be a perfect fit for the Hitler Youth.” 

Reiner only shivered in reply. 

The soldier leaned away from Reiner and cracked his back, stepping across the wood to do a headcount. “One.” He pointed to Karina who stood there with very little resistance. “Two.” He shifted his finger toward Annie; the girl, while boiling underneath, kept a cold exterior. “Three.” Reiner’s aunt looked down at the ground, unable to meet the man’s eyes. “Four.” Gabi had stopped her wailing when one of the men shouted at her, eyes swimming with unshed tears. “Five.” Reiner held strong for Gabi, sucking in his fear. He was a loyal German citizen - if he complied, perhaps all of them would be alright. 

“That’s not so bad. Think they’ll fit?” One of the other men spoke up, to which blue-eyes scoffed. 

“Of course they will. Just a bunch of German criminals in the cars now,” He stepped toward the door, holding it open with a generous smile, “The better question is whether they’ll make it to the end.”

“They’re going East?”

“They’re going East.” 

Reiner didn’t really understand what they meant by “East,” but he could feel his mother tense beside him. He was connected to her, in a way. He felt what she felt. He thought what she thought. He did what she did. And he was sure wherever they were going wasn’t a nice place - not at all. 

Then she spoke up, and Reiner’s heart fell. 

“I beg of you, please,” She paused and waited to be stopped. When there were no interruptions, she continued, “We’re loyal German citizens. None of us practice Judaism anymore - we were practically forced into it by my father, I swear-” 

“That’s enough,” Blue-eyes held up a hand to stop her, “Rats are incredibly manipulative, conniving little creatures, why should we listen to you?” 

“I can prove it. I can prove that we’re loyal to the Fatherland.” 

That caused him to stop, his eyes flicking over to Karina as she pulled papers from one of her coats. “These. I can tell you who forged these.” 

Annie startled, making a strangled noise in the back of her throat, before quickly being shut up by their aunt. 

“Go on.” 

Karina handed her papers over to blue-eyes and briefly pointed to the writing, “Herr Hoover. Hoover is a traitor to the Fatherland.” She moved back. “He’s been helping Jews hide in plain sight, and his Jewish wife has been helping him all the while.” 

_No._

“Frau Hoover did noth-” A hand was clasped over Annie’s mouth before she could say more - their aunt desperate to shut her up. The more people they denounced, the more they revealed, the higher their chance of survival. 

But not the Hoovers. For them, the higher their chance of being executed. 

Reiner shifted on his feet, unsure of what to do. He wished he was as brave as Annie. He wished he was able to speak up and agree with his twin - yet, he didn’t know if he should. 

Hadn’t his mother always told him that they deserved this fate? They were going to try and avoid it, but didn’t they deserve it? If they did, didn’t the Hoovers? 

And maybe, maybe if he obeyed, then they’d all be able to avoid this “East” and he and Bertholdt and Annie and their families could all live somewhere separate from Germany. He was sure they’d be watched, they’d be prisoners in a sense, but they’d be helpful Jews, they’d be allowed things, they’d be allies, and they’d reap the benefits of all they did in service to the Fatherland. 

So when blue-eyes looked at him and asked if his mother was telling the truth, he only replied with a nod of his head, looking to his mother with a shy, expectant, smile. 

That was all she wanted from him, right?

Compliance?

_\/__\/__\/_

They arrived at the station with little fanfare. Nobody was there - after all, this was the type of train nobody wanted to be on. The cars were more for livestock than humans, and even then, Reiner figured the animals would be treated in a better fashion.

“Wait,” His mother’s voice rose up from beside him, panicked as she faced the train, turning to look at blue-eyes in apprehension, “We gave you information. Shouldn’t we-?”

“Ah, that’s where you're wrong, Jude.” He shook his head and motioned toward the open door of the empty car. “Do get in.”

Karina moved to grip at the man’s uniform, but he quickly slapped her hand away, raising his arm, prepared to hit her again. “I said ‘do get in.’ You heard me, didn’t you, Walter?” Blue-eyes looked to the heavy-set soldier beside him - another face Reiner recognized. 

“You did indeed.” 

“Right. I had thought I was being rather polite.” He turned on Karina with a glare. “Guess it was wasted on someone of her species.” He continued talking as he grabbed Annie’s wrist - shoving her into the car. “Until your claim is confirmed, I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do for you.”

“Then when-?”

“The ministry will send a letter, I’m sure. Now-” He made sure their aunt was in before grasping at Gabi, chucking her inside with very little concern, “ _-Get in._ ” 

Karina clambered onto the car, thankfully pulling Reiner along with her. He didn’t want to feel the soldier’s cold, talon-like fingers ever again, and he was hoping it was the last he ever saw of him. But he knew it wouldn’t be, because the bad never left. It always remained, and for him, it would appear in his dreams. 

Those blue eyes weren’t going away - they never would. 

It was only the wailing voice of Gabi that brought him back to present, and he was thankful for it - thankful for the awakening, but less thankful for the prolonged noise-making. 

Reiner moved to the back of the car, leaning against one of the sides, reaching for Gabi in the dark. Eventually he found her hand, and when he did, he reached underneath her arms and pulled the girl onto his lap. She quieted in turn, and he tried to find some way to keep her peaceful. 

Annie wasn’t helping anything. 

She had always been an imposing figure in Reiner’s life. They had started as equals, and then as each took different paths (one, a product of his mother, the other, a product of the cruelty she observed) they grew distant. Reiner hadn’t intended for that to happen; in fact, he rather liked his twin’s company - it was more that she didn’t like his. 

It made it easier for her to hate him. 

So as he ran a trembling hand through Gabi’s dark, silky hair, he avoided Annie’s dark glare. He couldn’t see where she was, he didn’t know if she was to his right, to his left, or right in front of him, but he knew she was angry. Angry at him, his mother, his aunt, all of them. And maybe they deserved it. He didn’t know why, but maybe they did. 

Despite all his assurances, Gabi could feel the tension in the car. It may have partly been due to Annie, but Reiner knew the real culprit was the silence. So he opened his mouth and spoke. 

What else could he do? 

“It’s alright, Gabs,” He shook his hand out, trying to get his fingers out of her now-tangled hair, moving toward a small band of leather around her neck. “Remember this? Remember when I gave this to you?”

Gabi stopped huffing, turning her head upwards to stare into Reiner’s face. What he said next would likely be the determining factor in whether or not she stayed quiet. 

“We were at the park. Remember the park?” He absentmindedly twirled the braided leather between his fingers, watching the small trinket of metal bounce around as he did so.

Gabi reached up and grabbed at a few strands of his dangling hair, pulling at them. “Mhm!”

He couldn’t tell if that was a genuine agreement, or a reaction to the way he flinched as she tore at his scalp. “It was sunny, and the trees were all those pretty greens, and the pond! The pond was such a deep blue.” Far different to the soldier, whose eyes were light like the ice of winter. “What did we see there?”

“Birdie!” She let go of his blond locks, swinging her arms out to the side, brushing against her mother who patted her child’s hand. 

Reiner briefly grinned, but his face fell soon after. “Yeah, a falcon, right? You liked it so much, the way it swooped about. You were laughing hy-” He couldn’t remember that word, it was too big and complicated, so he settled with something else. “You were laughing a lot.”

“Hysterically.” Annie spoke up to his left side. He knew where she was now, but it gave him very little comfort. 

“Yeah. Hys-hysterically. And so I got you this.” He poked at the silver engraving attached to the leather band. It was crudely made, a cheap little thing - the cord was too big for her, and the supposed falcon looked more like a squashed bug - but it was all he could afford, and he was proud of the gift. “Think about the birds, Gabs. We’ll be free like them soon.”

It was a lie. 

But nobody would tell them otherwise.

_\/__\/__\/_

When they arrived at their destination, they had only been in the railcar for an hour. And although the train had stopped once before - at Munich, his mother had said - nobody else had gotten in with them. It was a blessing, in a way, because anyone who joined them would’ve quickly gotten sick of Gabi’s shouting. She needed to go pee. She wanted her dolls. Where were they going? When would they get there? They were only one word questions and statements, she couldn’t form more than that, but the whole entire family had become used to translating her babblings.

So, when the doors finally opened, the group was pleased they wouldn’t have to deal with a soiled toddler. 

That relief didn’t last. 

There were two soldiers standing in the opening - one who looked confused, and the other who stared at his partner in exasperation. Behind them sat fences - a tangled misshapen mess full of barbed wire. And then a watchtower, stretching into the sky, and beside it, a gate. 

There were words above the entrance, and Reiner could just barely make it out. 

‘Arbeit Macht Frei’

Work shall set you free. 

“What, five Jews?” The confused soldier took a step back, to which the impatient one shook his head. 

“You opened the wrong railcar. Look. Kids.” He pointed at Gabi’s small form, then Reiner’s, then Annie’s. 

The first one squinted, realized his partner was right, and moved to shut the door, “No men either-” 

“Wait.” A third voice, this one entering from the right. 

Reiner watched as a uniformed man stepped into the light. The previous soldiers immediately stood at attention when they heard his voice, saluting the figure. He must have been someone important, and that became increasingly clear when his name was shared. “Hauptsturmführer Calvi, Sir!”

Hadn’t he heard that name before? 

“Bring them here for me.”

“All of them?”

The Calvi person, an older man with a full head of greyed hair, merely gave the soldiers a look, and with that, they entered, grabbing the shoulders of Reiner’s mom and aunt to bring them out. The children followed suit, Reiner hoisting Gabi into his arms as best he could. 

As he clambered outside, blinking quickly, trying to get used to the sudden assault of white light, he heard the voice of another man. Someone else must have approached. “This again, Calvi? You’ve already picked up three today.” 

“That doesn’t mean we can’t use more.” 

The newcomer was poised, briefly touching his necktie before looking toward the group of five. “The two blondes then?” 

“Be quiet, Magath,” Calvi briefly held up a hand, turning to Karina first. “Ma’am, I’m Hauptsturmführer Calvi. You’ve arrived at Dachau.”

Reiner turned to his mother to register her reaction, but she gave him none. 

“Under normal circumstances, we wouldn’t accept women and children.”

The blond heard one of the soldiers murmur something under his breath, “They should be going to Chelmno.” 

“Or Auschwitz-Birkenau,” The other spoke up with a snort. 

“But-” Calvi ignored the statements from the other Nazis, “There might be a way for you to stay here. It’s a better option than the East - I’m sure you can already tell.” 

Reiner didn’t know what was so bad about the East, but the more everyone mentioned it, the more he hated the idea of it. What could possibly be there? Demons worse than Jews? He didn’t know if that was possible, his mother had always told them they were the worst of the worst, and yet, he had heard about the war; the stories about the Allied powers terrified him - maybe they were in the East. 

“What do we need to do?” A simple question, but one that got her desperation across. She was willing to do anything and everything for the Fatherland, and for herself. 

Calvi looked to Reiner and Annie, “Are these your children?” When she nodded a yes, he leaned down in the dirt, looking at both of the twins, one after the other. “How was your trip? Not too uncomfortable, I hope?” 

Annie didn’t say anything, her jaw locked. Reiner, on the other hand, looked up toward his mother for permission. When she urged him to speak - wearing that expression that told him he needed to do exactly as she wanted, otherwise he’d be in trouble - he gave Calvi a small smile, “It was great.”

Not alright, _great._ Because he knew that’s what his mother would’ve said. 

“Good to hear.” He moved his hands upwards, brushing back Annie’s hair from her face, as well as Reiner’s, analyzing them - Reiner only just managed not to flinch at the touch. “You look to be the same age. Twins?” A question directed at Karina, but Annie spoke up, pulling back from the Captain’s hand. 

“Yes.”

Magath, who had been silent up to that point, shifted on his feet. “I had heard Josef Mengele was looking into twins. If he gets approval from Himmler, these could be a nice start for him-”

“I’m not interested in presenting a gift,” Calvi cocked his head and stood up, brushing off the legs of his pants. “Not to Mengele at least. He tries much too hard to be like me, the man is infuriating.” 

“Hm, I suppose so.” 

Calvi focused on the twins again, “I have a proposition for the both of you. You can say no, but I assure you that agreeing would be the best possible course of action - for yourselves and your family.” 

Reiner couldn’t tell if it was a veiled threat or not, but ever the loyal German, he decided to believe that it was said out of genuine kindness. So far, Calvi had done nothing to make him wary of the man, and his mother seemed to be comfortable in his presence, so-

“We’re starting a small training program for young children who are looking to serve the Fatherland despite being Jews. Like you, I hope.” Annie wasn’t looking at the man, staring at her shoes. “If you decide to join us…” He bent down and ruffled Gabi’s hair, a very human interaction, but one that somehow bothered Reiner, “Then your entire family will be safely protected and well-provided for.” 

Reiner’s eyes widened at the last statement, and even though he was curious about what the ‘training program’ entailed, he immediately looked to his mom to see what she’d say. 

But Calvi wasn’t done. “You will have to be separated from your families during this period of time, but once you complete your given missions, you’ll be able to see them again. How does that sound? Fair?” 

He was less excited at that news. He relied on his mother for everything - his whole entire existence centered about his family. 

Annie spoke up in his stead, “What will we be doing?”

At that, Calvi smiled and said, “Nothing you’ll have any objections to, I’m sure.” He looked at the sky above, the clouds blotting out the sun. “Not many plan ahead, but I do, and I know the Allies will cause issues for us before long. So… you’ll be helping us defeat those devils.”

Both Reiner and Annie frowned in unison, confusion clouding their faces. They were kids, weren’t they? What could they do against America, Great Britain, France, and the Soviet Union? It wasn’t like they had any special abilities that would make victory possible for the Axis powers. 

But it didn’t matter, because Reiner felt Karina’s hands grasp at his coat. “Say yes my sweet Warrior. I know you can do this.” Reiner was still staring at Calvi, but when his mother grabbed his chin and forced him to look at her, he could finally see her terrified gaze.

He didn’t know if it was for the family or herself. 

“You’ll be protecting your aunt, Gabi, and I. Don’t you want to do that? Don’t you want to save us?” 

He did. 

“We’ll be safe if you agree. We’ll be protected. Because what are we?”

Loyal Germans. 

“And you’re the best of them.”

He was the best. 

“Say yes, sweetheart. Say yes. Because you know what else?”

He didn’t. 

“Your father would be proud of you. He’d be so proud of you. And if you do this for the Reich, he’ll have no other choice than to accept you and love you.” 

No other choice. 

And with those words firmly implanted in his mind, he set Gabi down and saluted the man in front of him, proudly displaying his loyalty to their nation. “I’ll do it, sir.” 

“Then I’ll have to say yes too.” Annie’s voice came from the side, her gaze firmly resting on her mother. 

Reiner wished he could be relieved that his sister’s anger was no longer directed at him, but instead it filled him with uncertainty. Why was his sister mad about this? Wasn’t it going to save them all? 

“Lovely!” Calvi’s voice - an interruption that the young blond didn’t really mind. “We’ll have a few others for you to meet inside… You two!” The Captain completely switched topics, looking toward the soldier bystanders. They both quickly came to attention and listened for further directives. “Please escort these three to one of the busses.”

One of the soldiers tilted his head, “One of the busses?”

“To Hartheim Castle. Where else?” 

Their eyes widened (as did Reiner’s at the mention of a castle), but they both quickly nodded, lightly grabbing Karina and Gabi and her mom to escort them to another section of the camp. 

Reiner felt unsettled as he watched them disappear, debating whether or not he wanted to speak up, but Gabi’s waving hand made it all too easy for him, so he cautiously looked at Calvi. “Could you go with them, sir? Just to make sure they get settled?” 

Calvi’s face changed for just a brief moment. The tenseness of his jaw, the narrowing of his eyes. But it faded in a flash, and Reiner wasn’t too certain that he had actually seen it in the first place. “Of course I can.” He looked at his aide. “Magath?” 

The man nodded, needing no further words. He stepped over to Annie and Reiner, lightly pushing at their shoulders to get them to move forward. They did so, and the gates opened. 

“Welcome to Dachau.” 

As Magath said those words, not without a hint of sarcasm, Reiner watched as a bus pulled away in the distance, a man waving goodbye in the back window - Calvi. 

He had kept his promise. 

Things were beginning to look up; Reiner’s family was safe, he was with his sister, and now they could help Germany and he could prove to his dad that he was worth it - that all of them were worth it. 

A happy life was ahead of him, and he only needed to grasp at it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've officially gotten the entire plot for this one figured out, so it should be smooth sailing - I hope! 
> 
> Some notes: 
> 
> Hitler Youth: An organization of young German boys (14-18) that was partially paramilitary. (There was an option for even younger children (10-14). They'd indoctrinate them and mold them into perfect Nazi soldiers.
> 
> Dachau: A concentration camp that was originally used to keep political prisoners. This changed overtime, and Dachau became a conglomerate of different groups: Jews, clergymen, Poles, Communists, Romani, etc. 
> 
> Josef Mengele: A horrible man that did a lot of human experimentation at Auschwitz-Birkenau. He was particularly interested in twins, people with heterochromia, and people with physical abnormalities. I won't go into detail about his experiments, but suffice to say, many children suffered at his hands.


	4. The Warriors

The building ahead of them didn’t look like much, but it had to be something important, because Magath was steadily guiding them toward the entrance. There were other people as well; most looked German, but he spotted a few outliers - some who looked Jewish, some who spoke in strange accents and shared strange words, some who wore robes of black. However, all were men, and all were much older than the twins. 

Reiner didn’t know what to think of it. Especially when Magath hesitated near the back of the line and switched courses, telling them to use one of the side doors. Something must have changed his mind about the main line, but what? 

Annie, unwilling to subject herself to uncertainty, stood still in the road. “What is this place?”

“The shunt room,” Magath replied, saying little more than that by way of explanation. 

She wasn’t contented by that answer - Reiner could see it in the wrinkling of her nose and the narrowing of her eyes - but she didn’t press him. Neither knew his rank, but whatever it was, it was surely far above the Jews of the camp; he could do with them whatever he wished. 

He opened the door and they stepped through. 

They were immediately assaulted by visions of naked men. 

At first, Reiner didn’t think it was real, but the brief movements on the other side of the windows told him otherwise. Each prisoner - they had to be the prisoners, he thought he recognized some from before - stood stark naked. Clothing had been taken off, and at present, the Nazi soldiers appeared to be taking their accessories. He watched as one man tried to hold onto his wedding band, to which he was promptly beaten. 

Reiner flinched as he saw the blood, but it made it easier not knowing the man in front of him - it made it easier to ignore. 

Staring ahead, Annie wore a blank expression. She wasn’t one to be bothered by violence (she was the one who usually caused it), but something about the situation was causing her to shut down, and Reiner had to reach out and touch her to bring her back to the present. She gave him a brief nod in return; it may not have been a hug or a ‘thank you,’ but it was certainly enough.

“Keep going,” Magath pushed them forward, caring little for the exhibition on the other side of the window. 

They did as ordered, following the Nazi’s directives until they reached a large door. It wouldn’t have been so imposing had it not been their destination; Reiner couldn’t help but want to close his eyes as Magath plainly announced that this was where they’d be meeting their fellow new recruits. 

With that, the metal creaked open, and Reiner waited with baited breath, only to quickly realize there was nothing to be worried about. They just looked like kids. Kids like him. 

His eyes were first drawn to a girl splayed out across a few conjoined chairs, her hair hanging as she waved an upside down hello. Beside her was a boy - was he ginger or blond? He seemed some sort of mix - that had a permanent scowl on his face. Annie and Reiner’s entrance only caused it to deepen. And then, to the right of him, another boy. This one had darker hair and appeared to be far calmer. The two looked similar. Perhaps related? Maybe siblings? 

“You look dumb.”

_Huh?_

The ginger was staring at him, frowning, folding his arms across his chest. “What’s a perfect little German boy doing here?

A girl to the side of him smiled lightly, “Be nice Pock. Zeke said he was a Jew and he looks German, no?” 

“Stop calling me that.” 

“Mm, no.” The girl stretched out and eventually rolled off the chairs, climbing to her feet so she could greet the twins. “My name’s Pieck. Yours?” 

“Uh, I-” He hesitated, and Annie decided to step in. 

“He’s Reiner. I’m Annie. We’re both Mischlings, but I suppose it was enough to count.” 

“I’m Romani. Those two are the unlucky sons of a Polish clergyman. Zeke’s a Jew like you, but he’s dealing with a situation currently.” She shrugged and either didn’t notice the way Reiner flinched back at ‘Romani’ or chose not to register it at all. 

The older looking boy must’ve felt left out because he quickly spoke up. “My name’s Marcel, and my little brother over here is called Porco.”

“Not Pock?” 

Reiner looked over at Pieck in confusion, to which she chuckled, “That’s just a nickname.”

Ginger - or Porco, Reiner corrected himself - quickly got to his feet and crossed the room, trying to grasp at Reiner’s multiple layers of clothing. The blond was surprised at the sudden action and stumbled back toward the wall. “Don’t even think about calling me that, yeah? You got it?” 

Marcel followed after his brother, only a second after, and pulled his brother back. “Stop it right now.”

“Sorry,” Reiner muttered, although he didn’t entirely understand what he was apologizing for. He was just asking a question, couldn’t the Porco boy see that? Then again, he may have already been riled up from Pieck’s comments - or perhaps not, because none of his true anger seemed to be directed at the Romani at all. 

“Don’t apologize… Reiner was it? Porco knows better.” Porco blushed in embarrassment at his brother’s words and quickly dipped his head, making his way toward the rickety chairs. 

A few moments passed, and as an awkward silence permeated the room, Annie tugged at Reiner’s arm and began to unclothe the multiple layers that were now sticking to their bodies - awash in sweat. Reiner followed her example, and the others turned away, getting back to their own business. Which was to say nothing at all. They were waiting for Calvi, or Magath, who had left to help this ‘Zeke’ person. 

When they were finished - Reiner left with a simple shirt and shorts, Annie dressed similarly - both cautiously walked over to the ring of kids and sat down among them. 

Annie decided to take one for the team, “So, Nazis huh?” 

It was notably worse than the silence. 

Nobody replied, everyone stared, and Annie decided she wasn’t going to initiate the conversation again. Reiner was the only one who actually seemed bothered though, but that was to be expected. Annie knew where Reiner’s loyalties lied, and it wasn’t with his race. It was with their mother and all she stood for. 

“Uh,” Reiner picked at the flaking paint on the ground and finally looked up with shy eyes, “Where are you guys from?”

Porco immediately groaned in exasperation. “Do you two like making small talk or something? How boring can you be?”

Annie resented that statement, but didn’t speak up. 

“We’re from Guben,” Marcel spoke up, shooting a look toward Porco. 

“Isn’t that in Germany?” Reiner didn’t know nearly as much as Annie, but his mother had made sure to go over geography with him - the Fatherland, home of strong Germans, and then the other lands, home of traitors, devils, and Untermensch. 

“We were some of the few Poles there.”

“Oh.” Reiner continued to pick at the paint until Pieck spoke up. When he raised his head from his absentminded destruction of Nazi property, he found she was only a few inches away from his face, laying down on the ground. He tried not to startle - where had she come from? - but her strangely knowing grin stilled any sudden movements.

She began playing with the paint along with him. “Guess.”

“Guess?” Reiner helped her work at a larger piece. 

“Yeah. Where do you think I’m from?” 

“Is this a trick question?”

“Maybe.” 

That wasn’t helpful in the slightest. 

“Romania?” He finally peeled back a section and grinned in triumph. 

“Too obvious.” Pieck sighed. “Pock didn’t get it either.”

“Germany, then.” Annie spoke up from Reiner’s side, watching the two children behave like children. How annoying. 

Pieck stretched out her arms and grinned, “Yes! Bremen… although we moved around a lot. Not that it was allowed.” 

_Figures. You’re a Gypsy._ Reiner thought it, but he didn’t say it. His mother always told him that the Romani were a lot like Jews, perhaps even worse, and just as he hated his own race, he hated any others his mother warned him about. 

“What about you two?” Marcel spoke up, crossing one leg over his thigh, leaning forward. 

Reiner decided he was bored with the paint and scooted back. “Rosenheim.”

“Germany?”

“Where else?” Annie replied. 

Porco squinted. “I get why Pieck was able to avoid Nazi authorities, but how were two Jews able to do it?”

Reiner didn’t think it was possible for Annie’s mouth to turn down any further, but somehow she managed it. “How do you think?” She gestured at herself and then at her brother, raising a single eyebrow, clearly saying _‘isn’t it obvious?’_

“But what about your papers?” Marcel hopped in again, ever curious. 

Reiner hesitated at that, and Annie sent him a ferocious glare at the reminder. No, she wasn’t over it, and he supposed she’d never truly be. “A friend helped change the information.” Did he even have a right to call the Hoovers friends? He thought so, he was just doing what was best, but Annie must’ve disagreed. 

Pieck cocked her head, hair falling in front of her face. “Then how’d you get discovered?” 

Annie stared, Reiner withered, and all was still. 

Then, thankfully, a blessed interruption. 

“Annie? Reiner?”

They turned in unison, and there he stood - Bertholdt.

_\/__\/__\/_

Magath stood to the side of the room, observing the meeting without stepping in. Perhaps he was just curious, or maybe he didn’t really care. Zeke, the other newcomer, was at his side, folding his arms across his chest.

And then, of course, Bertholdt himself. He had always been tall, but it was obvious as he stood in the doorway - a lanky child that would only keep growing. He was wearing clothes, but not his own. He already had a uniform on, prison garb, with a yellow badge proudly displayed against the stripes. 

Reiner barely registered any of it, leaping up to his feet to move toward his friend - friend, right? They were still friends? Annie may not have thought so, but Bertholdt opened up his arms, allowing Reiner to hug him. He stayed there for what felt like minutes, although it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, eventually pulling away to smile up at him. “What are you doing here?” He asked the question, and then immediately bit his tongue, because he knew _exactly_ why Bertholdt was there. 

“The Gestapo took all three of us,” Bertholdt began, sending a look toward Annie. There was some sort of understanding there that Reiner didn’t get - something he felt left out of. “Guess we must’ve gotten on the same train as you.”

“But you’re in uniform?” Reiner took a few steps back, staring at the stripes. 

Bertholdt scratched at the skin of his arm, looking to the ground. “Yeah. I guess they thought I was older.”

“Enough chit-chat,” Magath spoke up, moving away from the wall, “It’s been dealt with.”

“Did you get the same offer?” Reiner murmured to Bert as they both took their seats on the floor - Pieck was taking up most, stretched out like a sunbathing cat. 

“Offer?” Bert looked up and then nodded, “Oh! Yes. When they saw dad’s condition they asked if I wanted to join… this.” The boy hesitated, looking around him. What exactly _was_ this? 

“The Warriors program.” Magath had crossed over to the center of the room, shouldering his gun. 

Reiner found the name ironic. His mother had always called him that, hadn’t she? 

Zeke, the other newcomer, looked to be older than the rest. A prototype? Whatever he was, he had obviously gained enough respect to stand by the side of the Nazi officer. “Created by Hauptsturmführer Calvi, and approved by Heinrich Himmler, the Warriors program was formed to protect the Fatherland from foreign invaders.” 

But wasn’t the Third Reich winning? They had taken control of France, Yugoslavia, and Greece - their enemies had barely even touched them. Reiner stumbled over his words at first, but quickly spoke up, saying as much. “But that won’t happen. The Fatherland would never lose.”

“Ah, what a well-behaved Jew,” Magath peered at Reiner before shaking his head, looking at the entire conglomeration of kids. “As proud members of this great nation, we must be prepared for anything. No matter how unlikely it may be.” He shifted. “You’re all last case scenarios - clever little spies, if you will. Although, that shouldn’t be a problem for any of you, should it?” He looked at each group as he spoke. “A few parasites here.” Bertholdt, Reiner, Annie. “A few vagrants there.” Pieck. “And then, of course, the Catholics.” Porco and Marcel, as if that somehow spoke for itself. 

Pieck giggled when she was called a vagrant, chest rising and falling with each breath as she laid on her back, but a glare from Magath made her go still and quiet. 

“If the Allied devils manage to breach German defenses, then we’ll need someone to locate them, integrate into them, and lead them to their deaths. What better than children? Especially children that have just ‘escaped’ from a camp.”

Reiner folded his legs, scooting slightly over so that Annie could join Bertholdt and himself on the floor, all looking up at the officer. 

“We’ll teach you how to be the perfect spies. We’ll help you learn how to fight. We’ll administer all the training we possibly can - training that will make sure you’re ready for any incoming invasions.” 

Reiner was following, at least part of the way. It was enough to get the basic message. They’d be helping the Fatherland fight against their enemies. And that was enough to make Reiner pleased. He’d do it for his family, for his mother who wished for him to become a German and his father who he only wanted acceptance from. If he had to act as a runaway child and put his life into the hands of his enemies, then so be it. 

“You’ll learn more about the operation from myself and Calvi, when he returns. Zeke will be your superior. I’ll expect you to report to him.” Magath pulled out a cigarette and lit it. “He’ll also be the messenger if we ever have to send you out on a mission. Locations of enemies, supplies, potential ambush spots - you’ll give it to Zeke, and we’ll send you further instructions from there.” He took a long drag and turned away, moving to head out the door. “It would be in your best interest to play nice with him.” 

Before fully exiting, he absentmindedly said, “Zeke, escort all of them to the barracks.” His tone suggested he didn’t much care what happened from there. 

“Has it been prepared?” Zeke quickly called out, but the door had already been shut, to which the older boy let out a long sigh. “Well, lucky us. If Herr Calvi did as he said, we should have a nice place all to ourselves.”

Nobody replied, all a bit scared of the boy who was so clearly of a higher rank than them. 

“Oh come on,” Zeke raised an arm and motioned them out, “I’m sure you’re all starving. Let’s grab something to eat.” 

The entire group looked at one another, unsure, until Reiner grinned and the rest followed - a contagious sense of happiness spread, despite everything that was happening around them.

_\/__\/__\/_

Buttoning up his new clothing, Reiner picked at the badge on the front. It was something new, something that didn’t signify ‘Jew’ or ‘Romani’ or ‘Homosexual.’ It was just a small little thing, a circular band of gold. It reminded him of a halo, although he didn’t fully understand what those were - something to do with God. Something to do with ‘savior.’ And with that word in his mind, he grinned. That’s exactly the type of person he wanted to be - a savior.

When he finished, he turned around and surveyed the male side of the barracks. Porco and Marcel had already finished getting ready, the two discussing something as they sat on their joint bed. Bertholdt was just finishing, playing with the sleeves, trying to pull them down further - they hadn’t expected someone of his height. Eventually he gave up and sat down. 

Reiner then shifted attention to the female side. They had a small curtain dividing them from one another - a generous gift from Calvi, considering they were only supposed to have necessities. But there were still cracks between the fabric, and he could spot Pieck stretching across the bed as Annie looked down at her in annoyance. 

Everything was… surprisingly fine. Their little section was small, only a fourth of the building. A half was dedicated to some sort of experimentation center - they’d be training there, partially. The other fourth, on the opposite side, was for a group of men. Reiner didn’t know what type of men, or why they were there, but he had a feeling it had something to do with the middle section of the barracks. 

They had just eaten, and when they were taken to their new quarters, Zeke had left them alone, saying he had some business to attend to. Reiner rather liked the older boy. He was loyal to the Fatherland and had a funny sort of personality. It was easy for him to feel comfortable in Zeke’s presence. The others may have felt differently about that, but it was okay; he enjoyed himself at dinner, and that’s what mattered. 

“You think they’re really okay?” Bertholdt eventually spoke up, and Reiner startled, turning toward his friend. 

“What do you mean?” Reiner sat down on their shared bed - more a firm and scratchy cot - and scooted closer to him. 

Bertholdt shrugged, looking up toward the ceiling. “I-I don’t know. I guess I’m just… I’m worried for my dad. My mom’s not with him. She was sent on one of the trains going toward the East and I-” He stopped rambling, growing silent. 

That word again. East. 

Reiner hesitated. What could he say to him? He was the one who had gotten them all in this situation in the first place - if he had just kept his mouth shut, perhaps they could all continue living in peace as pretenders. “I’m so sorry Bertholdt, I didn’t mean to…” He didn’t, and yet his emotions were conflicted. He was only doing what a loyal German would do, right? “At least our families will be together, right? Just like the old days?” 

“Yeah.” A reluctant reply. And then a brighter one. “Yeah. You’re right.” 

Reiner patted the pillow next to his own and Bertholdt flopped back, Reiner following shortly after. “It’ll be fine. We just gotta do what they want, and then it’ll all be fine.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Yeah,” Reiner echoed. 

The silence stretched on for a few minutes. And then, an interruption. 

“Heya boys!” Pieck was sticking her face through the fabric divider, face stretching with that soft smile of hers. She clambered over to the other side, promptly falling on the floor after all excess moving she performed in order to fight the heavy blankets. 

Porco got to his feet and helped her up, to which Pieck laughed in reply, “Aw, thanks Pock.” 

“Don’t call me that.” He dropped her hand. 

Reiner hesitated, wondering what she was doing. He thought he was alright with her, maybe, but she was still Romani, and that meant she was as dirty as he was. Did he really want to associate with anyone there? No - that was a bad thing to think. They were all working together to save their families. He’d have to learn to cooperate with everyone. 

Still, he spoke up. “I’m not so sure this is allowed, Pieck. We could all get in trouble.” 

“I’ve been in trouble my entire life. I’d say this is worth the risk.” She wiggled her fingers at Porco, who had already retreated, causing an unwarranted blush to spread across his face. “In truth, I just wanted to talk more. I’m bored.” 

“ _All_ of us could get in trouble,” Bertholdt inclined his head in Reiner’s direction, jumping off what had already been shared. “Not just you.” 

“What could they do anyway?” Pieck looked toward the ceiling as if it held the answer. 

“Kill us. Or our families.” That darkened the mood immediately, and Bertholdt began to sweat. 

He watched as Pieck bit her lip, hesitating as she folded her legs, staring down at her hands. Reiner wasn’t entirely sure, but he thought he saw her eyes going glassy. 

“Nice going.” Porco sent a glare toward Bertholdt and put an awkward hand on Pieck’s left shoulder, standing beside her. 

Marcel jumped in, none too pleased with the way everyone suddenly ganged up on the girl. “I’m sure it’s fine. Remember what Zeke said? This is our free night. The only one we’ll be getting.” 

Bertholdt and Reiner exchanged small frowns before eventually relenting to the idea, each moving forward to lay on their stomachs, arms resting on the edge of the cot, holding their chins up as they peered at Pieck. 

“I… guess they can’t kill all of us. That’d defeat the purpose.” Bertholdt hesitantly grinned and with that, Pieck was back to her usual self - whatever her usual was. It was rather hard to explain in any simple terminology. 

“Yay!” Pieck exclaimed, although it was soft, and not at all like any exclamations he was used to. “Honestly,” she paused and motioned to Bertholdt and Reiner, “I was really just curious about how you two know each other. What are the chances of that?”

_Pretty high if one sells out the other._

He didn’t say it, but he knew that was the truth of it. 

“Well, we’re both from Rosenheim. Childhood friends, actually.” Bertholdt rubbed the back of his neck and thought about what he wanted to say next. “But we had to stop seeing each other. Dangerous for both parties.”

“Ah, Jews.” Pieck cocked her head “Or Mischlings? That’s what you said, right?”

Reiner nodded. 

“My father worked in the interior. They put up with him due to his position, but as you can see…” Bertholdt shrugged, although he looked down, refusing to meet Reiner’s eyes. “This was bound to be the eventual result, though. We had always been prepared for it.” 

“Hm. And you’re twins with Annie?” She turned her attention to Reiner. 

He tilted his head, “I had thought it was obvious.” 

“Your eyes are different.”

“Oh. I guess so.” 

Porco took that brief lapse in conversation to pull at his hair, looking at the group in exasperation. “Shut up. Holy shit. I can’t take any more small talk.” 

Reiner grimaced at the curse; that was a bad word, something they weren’t supposed to say. And then, another thought - were Catholics even allowed to swear? 

“Well what do you wanna talk about then, Pock?” 

He hesitated. “I dunno.” 

“See. All friendships must start with a bit of agonizing small talk.” She scooted over to the side of his shared bed. “Here.” She patted his leg. “You try it.” 

Porco, put on the spot, turned to his brother for help. Marcel only shook his head, a small grin resting on his face. This was something he was going to have to get himself out of. “Uh… What’s your favorite-” 

“No.” A voice from the other side of the curtain. Annie. “Don’t continue with that.”

Porco’s relief was palpable. 

“It’s time, Pieck. Come back over.” Annie was as demanding as ever, poking her head out from between the sections of the fabric. “I’m going to sleep now, and if you climb in late and wake me up, then I’ll kill you.”

Pieck sent a tired look in Reiner’s direction, to which Reiner shook his head no. She wasn’t being serious, but he couldn’t promise that Pieck wouldn’t get a knee to the gut or a fist to the face. 

“Alright then,” A long sigh. Pieck pushed herself up and crossed to the female side as Annie held the curtain back for her. “Bye guys!” She turned and looked in Porco and Marcel’s direction. “I’ll ask you two some things tomorrow night. Gotta keep it fair.” 

Marcel laughed at that, while Porco grimaced, and with that, the fabric fell down, blocking the two rooms completely. 

It wasn’t long until the sun sank beneath the horizon, and when that happened, the barracks were thrown into darkness. 

Reiner and Bert moved back, grasping at the threadbare blanket as they laid down with their backs to each other. They had had plenty of sleepovers before, so neither was particularly forceful about who had the largest section of the cover. However, they still hadn’t been able to truly talk in a year, and an uncomfortable silence overtook the pair. Neither of them were asleep, and they both knew it. 

Finally, Bertholdt decided to whisper a few words. “I like her. Pieck? I think she’s pretty neat.”

“You may have to compete with Porco then.” Reiner thought about the ginger Pole and his hidden blushes. Not that romance made a lot of sense to him yet. Could a girl be cute? Maybe? But he’d only ever interacted with his sister, and this new girl, Pieck, was _Romani._

“Not _that_ way,” Bertholdt quickly clarified, flipping onto his other side so he could face Reiner. “She just seems… nice. It’s different from what I’m used to. From what we’re all used to.” 

Bertholdt was right. Reiner couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen someone so interested in the lives of others. Someone that was so… calm in a comforting sort of way. “Maybe we should ask _her_ some questions next.”

“She’s gotta have stories, right? She seems like she would.” 

Reiner chuckled, “I was always way too impatient to listen to anyone about anything. You liked listening to elders though, didn’t you? You’d force me to join you sometimes. Though I can’t remember anything they said.”

“Well yeah, you weren’t paying attention.” 

“Sounds like me. I bet I was planning out some other actually fun thing we could’ve been doing.” He didn’t bring up the other part of the equation. That his mother didn’t like it. 

“That’s debatable,” Bertholdt replied, flipping back over to his other side.

After a few moments passed, Bertholdt spoke up for the final time. “Goodnight Reiner.”

“Night Bertholdt.” 

And despite his homesickness and longing for Karina and Gabi, he fell asleep quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The gang is back, but it definitely won't be sunshine and rainbows from here on out. 
> 
> Also, side note, I've always found Annie's poorly timed humor to be hilarious. How does she always manage that? 
> 
> Notes!
> 
> \- The shunt room (Schubraum) was a room that all new prisoners had enter when arriving at Dachau (as of 1938). They were forced to strip completely and hand over all worldly possessions. 
> 
> \- Guben was a part of Germany until the end of World War II. At the Potsdam Conference the border between Germany and Poland was fixed (Oder-Neisse line), and as Guben was right along it, the eastern part was annexed into Poland as Gubin. 
> 
> \- There was a specific barrack set aside for experimentation in Dachau. That's where the Warriors are currently staying, it's just sectioned off from the main room. 
> 
> I've recently made an [ Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/kyriemryn/) account, and I'll be posting art there! I hope to eventually draw a few scenes from my fics. So if you'd like, feel free to check it out.


	5. A Series of Unfortunate Events

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! This turned out to be a lot longer than I expected. But, I think it was important to do. The purpose of this chapter is to show the relationships between the Warriors, and to show three years of time passing, because I feel like it would be sucky to just... leave it completely open. 
> 
> This is basically a collection of one-shots? I guess? That take place during their time in Dachau. There are five of them:
> 
>  **The First Day:** An introduction to Dachau, the people inside it, and their daily schedule. A wake-up call to reality for the little Warriors. 
> 
> **Punishments:** This focuses on various horrible things that occurred at Dachau. To not address these would be doing a disservice - I felt like I'd be completely ignoring how terrible concentration camps were if I didn't include something about what occurred there. 
> 
> **Cultural Exchange:** The Warriors get to learn about one another, and because of this, they grow closer. 
> 
> **Letters:** The Warriors receive news from their families. Some are happy, some aren't. 
> 
> **The Last Day:** Four Warriors head out into enemy territory after saying goodbye to two of their previous crew.

**| The First Day |**

Reiner woke up with Bertholdt’s foot pressed firmly into his face, and although that would usually be enough to startle anyone out of their slumber, a sudden clanging was the real culprit. He took a moment, blinking, not fully realizing where he was, who he was with, and - where was Gabi? She always stayed in the same bed as him. Annie too-

“Up! Get up now!” 

Oh. Right. 

His family was somewhere safe, being provided for, and he was in the camp, proving his worth to his dad, the fatherland, and himself. He had Bertl too. And Annie was still with him. And then there were the… Poles and the Romani. _They were fine. Maybe not Aryan. But they were like him_ \- it was a mantra he’d have to force himself to repeat until he truly believed it. 

He pulled off the threadbare blanket and groaned, pushing at Bertholdt’s shoulder. “Co’n.” His intelligibility was dubious at best. 

Reiner slid off the cot and swayed as he tried to stand up - what time was it anyway? He couldn’t see anything until, blessedly, a lightswitch was turned on and a warm glow flickered against the wooden walls. At that point he spotted Zeke standing near the entrance with his uniform on. It seemed different, there was some band around his arm that said something, but he couldn’t manage to read it with his blurry, sleepy eyes. Instead, he decided to speak, scratching at his prison clothes as the other children awoke. “What’s going on?”

“I should’ve explained this to you earlier,” Zeke said, moving into the male side of the room, helping Marcel pull Porco off the paper mattress filled with wood wool. “You have thirty minutes. Make your beds, clean yourselves up, and eat breakfast. If you aren’t finished by then, I can’t stand in the way of any punishments you may receive.”

Punishments? Reiner quickly reacted, rubbing his eyes to make sure all his sleepiness had faded. “But why-?”

“We’re treated better than most at the camp, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have to adhere to the rules, and it definitely doesn’t mean you get to avoid beatings if you step out of line,” Zeke crouched down, meeting Reiner’s eyes as he pushed up at his glasses, “Now, let’s get you ready so that doesn’t happen, yeah?”

The blond boy eagerly nodded and Zeke grabbed the hem of Reiner’s uniform, pulling down on it to straighten out the wrinkles. “Try not to sleep in this next time.” It would be cold, but at least he wouldn’t be called out during roll call. “You remember your number, right?” Again, Reiner nodded, holding up his hand with outstretched fingers to symbolize a five. “Exactly. We’re special since we usually get to use our names, but for simplicity…” He patted the five stitched in the center of the golden halo, “Five’s pretty easy to remember.” 

He couldn’t deny that. Five _was_ easy, and it seemed like that was on purpose. When they had gotten soup for supper the previous night, he had seen a few of the other prisoners, all considering him with a mix of expressions. He had noticed the much longer numbers on their uniforms, and hadn’t really questioned it. Adults could remember better. He doubted he’d be able to do the same. 

“Now,” Zeke grabbed at Reiner’s opened hand and pulled it down, giving him a small section of bread, “We’re also lucky since we actually get a breakfast.” 

Did they normally not? The Brauns had never been rich, but they had never been starving, and he definitely didn’t like the thought of being without food. Still, he accepted the bread and hesitantly squeezed Zeke’s pointer and middle finger by way of thanks, moving over to the bed to help Bertholdt fix it up. 

Once the blanket was pulled up to the lumpy pillows (which were incredibly uncomfortable, although he supposed he should be thankful that they even had them), Reiner pulled on his leather clogs and headed out the door, making his way for the latrine, stuffing the bread in his mouth so that the other prisoners wouldn’t be able to see it. Not that they could anyway. Whatever time it was, it had to be early, because the sky was completely dark. 

He did manage to find the basins of water though, and - trying to avoid whatever sliminess was on the surface - dunked his hands deeper into the liquid and hoped whatever he was pulling out was clean enough. He ran the water over his face, his hair, and the back of his neck, and when he pulled back, he felt like he was finally awake. He knew he had to be for whatever came next. The way Zeke was sounding… it didn’t seem like it was going to be easy. 

There were other prisoners around him, but for some reason, none of them had tried to interact. None of them had spoken a word. Reiner was initially confused, but it quickly turned into discomfort when he realized they were all still staring at him. Just eyes, just a whole bunch of staring eyes. 

To mitigate his unease, he tried to speak to the closest man to him, “Hello?”

No reply. Instead, an expression of fear passed over his face, and the prisoner looked from side to side before backing away. 

“Did I do something wrong?” 

Nothing. Again. It made him feel worse, and he waited only a moment more before darting back to the Warrior barracks, ignoring the prisoner’s shift from a fearful expression to a pained one. 

Shutting the door behind him, he saw that everyone else was currently munching on their breakfast. Porco’s was missing, presumably having been eaten already, and Marcel was offering him a bit of his, to which Porco appeared extremely insulted at the gesture. Annie took small bites, as did Pieck, although her’s were more like nibbles. Bertholdt, on the other hand, was playing with the thing, as if he didn’t know what to do with it. 

Reiner knew what that meant. Bert was lost in thought. 

“Hey,” Reiner spoke, sitting down on the cot beside him, trying to avoid spiraling himself - he didn’t want to think about why those prisoners were treating him in such a way. 

It took a moment for Bertholdt to register his presence, but once he did, the boy nearly jumped. “Oh! Reiner, hey.” 

“I don’t suggest using the water to wash up. It’ll just make you dirtier.” Reiner kicked at the ground, the conversation already awkward from the get-go. But it was what they did when Bertholdt was lost in his head - mindless talking was the only thing that seemed to work. 

“I can see that,” Finally in the present, Bertholdt looked over at his friend with a small grin. 

Reiner frowned and jokingly pushed at him with one of his wet hands, to which Bertholdt quickly scooted away. 

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” Reiner twisted on the bed, guilily shoving his hands beneath himself - as if he could somehow hide the mess he’d made of himself and Bert - and peered up at Marcel who was currently rubbing the back of his neck, looking about the room in mild distress, “But I think we need to be focused now. It’s still cluttered and I worry that-“ 

“Time’s up,” Zeke was at the door, glancing about, “Let’s hope Hauptsturmführer Calvi is in a forgiving mood.”

Gulping, Reiner quickly jumped off of the bed as Zeke moved in, telling them to line up in number order. First was Pieck with her two, then came Porco with three, and Marcel with four. Reiner squeezed himself between the boy and his own sister, who had a six. Bertholdt was last, a seven clearly stitched on his chest. Zeke had the number one on his uniform, but the same rules didn’t appear to apply to him as he was motioning the line out. “Roll call. Stand at attention and _do not move.”_

Now that was a warning. Sometimes he had difficulty determining lies from truth and warnings from threats and care from harm, but Zeke’s words… they meant he shouldn’t step out of line or there’d be consequences. Likely not just for him, but for the entire group as well. 

They were marched over to the appellplatz, most prisoners having already lined up. Reiner could see rows and rows of them stretching out into the distance, and he suddenly felt very small. He was a child amongst giant men - criminals, homosexuals, religious men, _untermensch._ He was of the last, and his kind was the worst of them all. 

“Why couldn’t I be Aryan?” He mumbled it to himself, not intending to be heard, but letting the words slip out anyway. 

Marcel, to his left, shifted very slightly on his feet. He was looking around, trying to see if any of the soldiers were near enough to see their interaction, but when none were found, he lightly nudged the boy with his elbow. “It’s not your fault, you know? You didn’t decide to be born as you are.” 

“But I’m still here,” Reiner’s voice grew even softer, and Marcel had to duck his head to make out the words, “And that means I have to make up for what my ancestors have done… and what my race is currently doing.” 

“Existing?” Marcel began a thought, but then decided against it, lightly touching Reiner’s shoulder instead. He was a smart, rational boy, and he knew that someone like Reiner wouldn’t be so easily swayed. Especially when his hatred appeared to run deep into himself. 

Zeke must have noticed the interaction, because he broke rank to quiet them. “Do you remember what I said? If you don’t-“ He paused and straightened, looking about himself to try and find something - someone? “Hm, it looks like it’s Magath today.” 

Zeke waited a few moments and then turned back to the group of expectant eyes. “You can relax slightly, but once he comes by, you need to be standing at attention. Got it?” 

Reiner was the first to salute his instructions, proudly raising his right arm - upwards and out. _Heil Hitler._ The rest hesitantly followed him, and the corner of Zeke’s mouth turned upwards. 

However, before Zeke made his way back to the side of the group, Reiner tentatively grabbed at the folds of his uniform. “Uh… mm…” Zeke turned, waiting patiently. “What’s that for? What does it mean?” He was pointing at the band on Zeke’s arm. 

“Oh. I wasn’t wearing this yesterday, was I?” Zeke turned the piece of fabric around, examining it. “I didn’t want to intimidate you too much.” He ran his finger along the words. “I’m a Kapo, a Lagerältester.”

Reiner tilted his head, still confused.

Zeke watched his movements and sighed. “I’m a prisoner that works as a prison guard. A Jew that rules the Jews. Or, in this case, you guys.” He shifted on his feet, leaning down slightly. “Someone of my age wouldn’t normally get this position, but the Warriors are a separate entity from the camp. So we’re commanded and taken care of as such. Special projects always get special benefits, you see.” 

“Whether those ‘benefits’ are good or bad…” Zeke shrugged and let the thought hang in the air before he crouched on the ground, put an arm around Reiner’s shoulder, and pointed toward a man in the distance. “See him? Josef Heiden. He doesn’t have jurisdiction over Calvi’s experiments, but he should be avoided.” He then moved his finger to the right. “And him? Eren Kruger, an Oberkapo. They’re supposed to be the violent type, but you don’t have to be as fearful in his case.” 

“If you become a kapo, do they like you better? The guards? Would Germans like you better?” 

“Well… I suppose so,” Zeke scratched at his chin, “I get my own room and better food, but that doesn’t mean they can’t throw me out if I mess up.” 

“Just if you mess up?”

“Or they get tired of me. But I’m a Warrior, so-“ 

“Then I’ll become a kapo! I can do it, I can prove that I-“ 

A scream. Someone was screaming. 

It wasn’t anything like the films, shrill and high-pitched, brought forth by women who desperately needed a knight in shining armor. It didn’t die off in any neat manner - a single scream and all was fine. No, it was far, far different, and Reiner’s face immediately changed from a wide-eyed smile to a terrified, thin-mouthed stare. 

Reiner slowly twisted his head to look at the kapo Zeke had pointed out. Not Eren, but Josef - a firmly built man who kept kicking and kicking and kicking the downed man before him. Reiner supposed his face would’ve had features before - a nose, eyes, bits of shorn hair - but he couldn’t see anything in the mass of blood and flesh that continued to become more bulbous with each slam of the kapo’s boot. 

The screams were the worst part. At first they had been intelligible pleas for anyone to help him. Then the subject changed. God. He wanted God to help him. But no God came, so he started choking. Reiner didn’t know where the noises were coming from, there was no mouth from which he could shout, but he managed, somehow, a coughing fit of spluttering blood and keening wails. And it just wouldn’t stop. It wouldn’t stop. _It wouldn’t stop._

In desperation, Reiner shut his eyes and covered his ears, but the noise echoed. It stayed with him in his mind, as did the featureless face, and he suddenly realized that this place wasn’t one of hope and happiness. 

It was hell. 

It was hell, it was hell, and they had to suffer through it to protect their families. So he opened his eyes to face it, because there was no other option then to come to terms with what he had brought down upon all of them. 

He watched the man get beaten to death. 

He could do nothing more.

_\/__\/__\/_

The Warrior children had all had different reactions to the death of the prisoner. Marcel had pulled Porco to his side, hiding his view of the corpse; for once, Porco didn’t complain, grasping onto the fabric of his brother’s uniform. Pieck stared down at her clogs, biting her lip, trying to look anything but scared. And Annie and Bertholdt, they had reached out to one another, just slightly, their pinkies touching and their eyes glassy. Bert had tears in his eyes, Annie did not, but both found comfort in their closeness.

And yet, even despite the different emotions that ran through them, they all shared silence. It became sacred, something they couldn’t break. For in the silence rested the echoing screams, and nobody wanted to interrupt the ghost of a dead man. 

Zeke offered no support. He stayed there, crouching and watching as one of the SS-Totenkopfverbände soldiers pushed a Jew out of the crowd to take the body away. 

“Do you still want to be a kapo?” An interruption that brought them all back to the present. 

“No.” 

It was a simple answer, but the only one he could manage as his throat closed over and his fingers continued to tremble. 

Zeke must’ve seemed satisfied, because he moved away from Reiner and stood at the front of the line. “Magath is coming. Dry your tears and stand still.” 

They all did as told, and this time, nobody tried to cross the line. 

Magath arrived with very little fuss, running a lazy eye over the group before waving his hand. “Cleared. You’re all here and present enough. Although I’d expect Calvi to want your hair trimmed and clothing neat.” He looked at Reiner with the last comment, and the boy wasn’t too sure what part of him he was specifically referencing. “You’re protected to a point. We have needs for you and we allow you to receive better treatment, but we can take it away at any second.” Magath folded his hands behind his back and walked over to Pieck, pausing before reaching out to touch a bit of her long hair. “Any second.” 

He walked away and they remained on the appellplatz for two more hours, unable to talk, move, or think. Thinking was dangerous, it only led to further despair. 

For Reiner, it was the blue-eyed man and the faceless pulp and his father’s cold hate. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to curl up next to his mother and hide away from the world. But he couldn’t do that. He had Annie, Bertholdt, and all of his family to protect. He just had to be a good little kid. He had been doing it for years - he could keep doing it now. 

“Form work details!” 

With that announcement, Zeke turned to the wobbling kids, motioning them back to the barracks. “Remember to unlock your legs next time,” he said as Porco fell to the ground, Marcel reaching to help him up, although he wasn’t doing much better himself. Zeke turned and surveyed the groups forming in the distance. “Be happy you’re not one of them. I don’t suspect you’d live a day.”

It wasn’t a reassuring thought, so the group rushed to get back to their room, close on Zeke’s heels. 

When the door was shut, Zeke moved to the opposite wall; it was made of wood, newly placed, as most of the barracks were made of stone and concrete. “You’ll be trained here,” he said as he reached for the door, “We’ll start with language lessons. English is essential, but you’ll learn some French too.” 

The Warriors followed him through into another small section of the barrack. It was similar to their rooms, but with more space due to the lack of beds. Instead, there were tables, chairs, and a door outside to an open clearing. Reiner thought that he could spot a set of targets in the distance, but his attention was quickly brought back to Zeke when the man continued talking. “Magath will be leading you the first half of the day. Calvi will join you during the second half…” 

It seemed like he wanted to say something else, his eyes flicking from side to side.

They waited. 

“Calvi isn’t-”

Magath walked into the room without warning, not bothering to knock on the semi-propped-open door. “Gossiping?” He pulled out a cigarette from a pocket and tossed it over to Zeke, grabbing a lighter and holding it up so the kapo could light the end. “At least do me the favor of sharing it when I’m in the room.” 

Zeke grinned and moved the cigarette up to his lips, “It’s the least I can do.” He stepped past the staring children and moved to the door, “I assume I’m supposed to continue with the…?” 

“Yes,” Magath said, nodding as Zeke left the room, before turning back to the children with a frown, “I’ll be training you in language, combat, and all manner of espionage tactics. To start, we’ll test your present knowledge in German and English and work from there. If you fall too far behind, you'll face punishment. Understood?” 

The gathered children nodded and all dispersed to find their own chair. Unluckily for Reiner, he had to sit by Porco, and the other boy appeared none too pleased by it. Marcel sat beside Bertholdt, and Annie by Pieck. The three tables all faced toward the front of the room, and it was there that Magath tapped a chalkboard, mumbling something to himself. “Babysitting a bunch of fucking kids…” 

He clearly wasn’t as into the program as Calvi was. 

“You’ll find your slate in front of you. Slate pencils are beside them. Once we see improvement you’ll be given copy books and pens and inkwells, but for now-” he gestured to their tables, “Pick up your tools. We’ll begin.” 

They all did as instructed, and the first hours of the new morning went as smoothly as they could. It wasn’t saying much, all of them were distracted by their thoughts, even Pieck who was normally outspoken in her quiet manner. It only got worse when they heard rapid-fire shots outside, a brief scream, and nothing. Magath hadn’t reacted at all. 

It was Bertholdt that spoke up in lieu of the noises. “Obersturmführer Magath?” 

“Seven?” He didn’t use their names. Reiner wondered why, but he didn’t bring it up. 

“What… what was that? Is that normal?” 

“This is a concentration camp, what do you expect?” Magath turned away from the board, dropping the chalk to fold his arms across his chest. “I know you saw the display this morning. Did you somehow think that was a one time thing?” 

Bertholdt went silent, fiddling with his fingers below the table. 

“Did all of you think this was some sort of vacation?” He turned his attention to the entire group this time, expression changing to one of exasperation. “Let me be the first to tell you it _isn’t._ You’re paying for your transgressions, yours and all that your kind has done. All of the prisoners out there are.” 

He nodded his head to one of the small windows. “The only thing that keeps you from that lot is the fact that you’re essential to Calvi’s plan. As soon as you’re not, you’re going East. You and your family.” 

He turned back to the board and continued to speak, “Death is common here. You best get used to it.” 

And they did, they all did in time.

_\/__\/__\/_

When Calvi came in, Reiner thought his head was going to burst. He could read German well enough, and he could speak it as any normal seven-year-old could, but when it came to English, he was far behind. His mother had never let him or his sister delve into outside cultures - the most he could confidently say was hello, goodbye, and ‘my name is.’ It was the same for Annie, but she caught into concepts far faster than he did, and was quickly writing notes down.

Bertholdt didn’t know too much either, neither did Porco, but their letters looked better than Reiner’s did. 

The real fear came when Magath discovered that Pieck and Marcel could both write and speak full sentences, even if they had strong accents. 

If Reiner didn’t catch up quickly… 

“Obersturmführer Magath.” Calvi’s voice. 

“Hauptsturmführer Calvi.” Magath dropped the chalk and saluted the man before promptly walking out of the room. No goodbyes, although Reiner wasn’t surprised, like any good German, Magath would hate the untermensch children he was forced to teach. 

“Now, I’m sure that was dull,” Calvi erased the board before turning around and smiling at the group. Reiner was taken aback, but not at all displeased. Perhaps there was someone, finally, who’d be willing to accept him as a German, as long as he proved himself worthy of such a title. “Not to worry, I’ll be here more often than Magath, and I’m actually fun!” 

Reiner began to smile, thoughts of the faceless man fading. 

“I’ve brought some gifts.”

He no longer recalled the faceless man. 

“Look,” He reached into his front pocket and pulled out a handful of wrapped candies. Reiner couldn’t remember the last time he’d had something sweet; he began to salivate. “I’m sure you all miss your families, but they asked me to give you these in their stead. Does that sound good?” 

Nods from all of them, even the quiet Annie. 

“I’d like you all to address me as Uncle Calvi from now on,” He walked to the back table with Reiner and Porco, wearing a bright smile. He pulled a candy from the bunch and punched it between his thumb and forefinger, looking to Reiner first. “Now, what do you say?” 

“Thank you Uncle Calvi!” Reiner was quick on the uptake. He may have been slow when it came to English studies, but nobody could doubt his loyalty to the Reich. 

Reiner was busy sucking on the strawberry flavored tablet as Calvi continued to step down the line. Each piece was received with thanks, until he came to Annie. 

She mumbled a very quiet thanks and took the candy from him, reaching up to grab it. And it was with that casual lack of gratefulness that Reiner saw Calvi’s smile slip. It was just for a second, just a hint, but it was all it took to make Reiner duck his head in fear and stare at his shoes. Those eyes were so _cold_ , and that scowl meant _very_ bad things. 

But it was Annie. Calvi was in front of Annie, so Reiner looked up again, his fists clenching. 

The man had since toned down his rage, but that smile was an evil thing. He had grabbed Annie’s arm, his fingers digging into her skin, and despite herself, his sister let out a small peep of pain. _“What do you say?”_

“T-thank you Uncle Calvi.” She tried pulling her hand away. He only gripped harder. “Thank you Uncle Calvi!” 

“Good girl.” The perfect smile was back, and he stepped away from the table, returning to the chalkboard. “If you behave yourselves, I’ll have many more gifts for each and every one of you” 

Reiner had been tense at seeing his sister in such a position, but his obedience won out, and all his muscles relaxed. The candy was good, after all, and he’d do nearly anything to get more. 

Calvi was a much better teacher than Magath had been. Perhaps it was due to his supposed kindness, perhaps it was because of his rewards - a smile and a laugh and a compliment, perhaps it was just because all of them feared what would happen should they fail to please him. But it worked, and Reiner began to learn. 

When the prisoners had come back for the evening and it was time for the final roll call of the day, Calvi walked them out of the barracks while whistling a jaunty tune. Reiner didn’t recognize it - even despite all the German nationalist songs that had been hammered into his head by his mother - but it made him feel light on his feet. It gave him a sense of hope, where previously the faceless man had given him none. 

Something in him warned him of danger, but the easily trusting half told him to ignore it. Calvi was a man who supported the Reich, who promised them all that they’d be heroes once the job was done, who said that they’d be accepted into the fold as honorary Germans - he’d just have to ignore the death around him, because as long as he stuck to Calvi’s side, it would all turn out just fine. 

And yet, even while on the appellplatz, when death and hate and violence was clearly shoved into his face, he couldn’t keep from shutting his eyes. He didn’t want to hear about the missing prisoners that had either died while working, or been shot for trying to escape. He definitely didn’t want to see Josef Heiden with his white smock and prison pants, walking about and singling out men for the _selektion._

Calvi had turned on him then, squatting down just as Zeke had done. “Open your eyes, Reiner.” 

He knew his name. 

“Okay,” came the quiet reply, and Reiner removed his hands from his face. 

“Look at all these prisoners, son,” Calvi said, motioning to the lines of men with a wide swing of his arm. 

_Son._ That was nice. 

“Why do you think they’re here? Why do you think us Germans need to make them suffer?”

 _Us_ Germans. 

“Because they defile the Fatherland with their kind. They manipulate their way into positions of power. They hide under masks and multiply like rats. They need to pay for their transgressions, theirs and all their ancestors.” It was monotonous, likely something he had memorized after his mother had told him those same lines time and time again. 

“Ah,” Calvi turned back to him and smiled, “You show so much loyalty, so much promise… but your sister, she does not.” 

Reiner blinked, trying to ignore the way Annie froze beside him. 

“W-what do you mean by that, Haup- Uncle Calvi?” Reiner took a small step forward, and nearly startled when Calvi took his arm and pulled him away from the line of Warriors. 

“Tell me, would you be able to turn your sister over to me if she had any… treasonous thoughts?”

“I-” Could he? Could he do something like that? He had done it to Bertholdt, he had done it to Bertholdt’s family. He had been the entire reason for his family ending up at the camp. What would this be compared to everything else? And yet, he had always wanted to make sure it was his family who was safe. He wanted to become a German for that sole purpose - that, and to prove he was worth it to his father. “I… yes. Yes I could.” He didn’t quite know if he was telling a lie. 

“What a good answer!” Calvi rummaged around in his front pocket, grabbed Reiner’s hand, and placed another one of the candies into his palm. “You’re well on your way to proving yourself. Keep your sister in line, yes?”

Reiner nodded, closing his fist around the candy. But for once, it didn’t feel like he deserved it in the slightest. “I know she’s loyal to the Fatherland, she just has a hard time expressing it.” 

“Hm,” Calvi looked back toward the group, Annie visibly twitchy, with Bertholdt looking concerned, “But can she obey her superiors?”

“Yes! Yes, she can. I’ll make sure of it.” 

“You do that,” Calvi smiled again, the sun setting behind him, “And, you tell me if any of the others are doubting the Reich. Each report you make means a better supper for your family.” The man raised his hand and ruffled Reiner’s hair, leading him back to the group of children. 

“I will.” That was less of a lie than before. His sister, Bertholdt, it would be hard to report them, but, when it came to the others, untermensch just like him, he felt more detached - it would be easier. 

“Good.” And with that, Reiner waited out the remainder of the roll call, heading back to the barracks as soon as it was finished. 

Annie, however, was pulled aside by Calvi, and Reiner found himself hesitating, trying to capture whatever bits of conversation they were having. 

Nothing could be heard over the din of shuffling prisoners, but Reiner was able to watch their interaction. Calvi was smiling, but not in a way that felt comforting. It was much too wide, and it didn’t meet his eyes. And his hands, they were gripping at her shoulders. She couldn’t move; Reiner knew she wanted to. 

When Calvi had finished talking, Annie nodded her head and said a few curt words, to which Calvi seemed satisfied enough, letting her head back to the barracks as he walked off in the other direction. 

She said nothing to him as she passed, but her eyes told him all he needed to know. He had just made it worse between them, and he had no idea how he was supposed to fix it. 

So he spoke, because it was all he knew how to do. “Annie, wait. Please.” 

It was the wrong thing to say, apparently, as she quickly pushed him into the wall of the barracks. “What did you tell him this time?! Huh, Reiner? How did you fuck it up-”

“Please don’t say that,” He mumbled and immediately regretted it. 

“Shut up! Shut up, Reiner! You told him something, didn’t you? You told him about how little I care for Germany and the stupid Reich and how great and perfect you are instead. You wanna become Hitler’s little Jude hero that badly? Really? Enough to make me suffer in your stead?”

“No, Annie, please! I’d never do that. I wouldn’t do that to you.” And for once, he knew he was telling the truth. Even if it came down to it, he’d never be able to hurt his sister, to send her toward all manner of pain just because she didn’t fall under their mother’s spell like he had. It all became so much clearer as he looked into her dark-blue eyes. “I lied. That’s all I did. I lied, I swear it. I couldn’t tattle on you.”

“But you did it with Bertholdt!”

She was right, and he knew it. “What was I supposed to do Annie? Mom had already told them… and that man…” He trailed off, shaking his head before shifting the subject. “I’m _sorry._ I’m the one that got us into this mess, but I swear I’ll get us out of it. All of us. Bertholdt, you, our families. If we’re Warriors, we’ll be able to fix it all. We might even get dad to-”

“Don’t talk about him. It’s a pipe dream anyway.” Annie had lost a bit of her previous fire. Looking into Reiner’s eyes, she had only found honesty. 

“It’s not, and I’ll prove it,” He pushed himself away from the wall, rubbing the back of his head where it had hit against the stone - hard enough to hurt, but not hard enough to cause any bleeding. “I promise you. I’ll make it all up to you, all of this. I’ll save us.”

Annie’s rage had gradually faded, replaced with slight trembles. Raising her arm, dipping her head, she lightly punched him in the chest. “You’re a goddamn idiot, you know that?”

“I know.” He whispered it, sliding to the ground, grabbing Annie’s arm so that she’d fall down with him. And once there, once both had landed on the grass, she gripped his prison clothes and moved closer to him, burying her face as he hugged her close to himself. “I know.”

There was a brief moment of silence before she spoke. “He… He said that he was upset with me. That he expected immediate obedience, and if I ever ignored his instructions again-” She swallowed and raised her head, twisting so that she could look at a building in the distance, “He’d put me in one of those cells. Let me think awhile.”

“But aren’t we already prisoners?”

“You don’t get it,” She shook her head, “You’re forced to stand. Stand for days and days and days and you can’t move at all. Said it was perfect for little girls who don’t listen to their uncles. He said he just wanted the best for me, but I don’t-” 

“It’s okay,” Reiner interrupted her, making sure she didn’t start heading toward a downward spiral. “I won’t let it happen.”

“You can’t exactly make sure of that,” She pulled away from him, scooting back. 

“But I can try, can’t I? Mother made sure I was her perfect boy. I know you hate me for it, but for once, I can help you because of it.”

Annie snorted, but didn’t start any other arguments. He knew that he had finally bridged the gap, or, at least started to. 

It was at that point that Zeke came out, quickly herding them through the door. “You two should know better. If you get caught out here at night, you’ll be shot. No questions asked.”

“Sorry, sir,” Reiner looked downcast as he walked back into the dimly lit room. 

“How many times-?” Zeke shook his head. “Call me Zeke, okay? It’s not like I’ll beat you to a pulp or anything.”

Upon seeing Reiner’s face, he awkwardly reached up to scratch at his ear, not saying anything else. The silence stretched until Bertholdt shuffled his way over, putting a hand on Reiner’s shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get to bed.”

“Okay.” Reiner sent one last look Annie’s way, although she was instead staring at Bertholdt. Some sort of communication was occurring between the two, but Reiner couldn’t translate it for the life of him. Still, she seemed to be feeling better - which was to say, back to her normal, standoffish self. 

When he pulled the blanket over himself, Bertholdt on his other side, he somewhat expected an interruption from the girl’s side. Pieck had promised, after all, to ask Porco and Marcel questions about their past, but when the lights were clicked off with no bright ‘heya’ he knew that she had thought better of it. 

They had just seen someone go from a man to a sopping puddle of flesh, blood, and bone for simply looking at the kapo the wrong way. None of them were in the mood to test out their own limits, least of all Pieck, who had been abnormally silent the entire day. 

Maybe Reiner should’ve been worried about her, but she was not one of them. Not yet. He cared about Bertholdt and Annie alone - the faceless man may have died, but he wasn’t going to make the same mistakes. They were going to survive. All of them.

**| Punishments |**

The faceless man had since been joined by others.

There was the flogged Soviet, seen on their second month in. Reiner had never figured out the reason for his public beating and subsequent execution, but he did remember his back. It had been pristine before, untouched by any wounds or markings. 

The man had climbed up onto the wooden block, a box encircling his feet so that he wasn’t able to move, and from there, Egon Zill, the Schutzhaftlagerführer inspector, had brought in a bucket of water, gripping an ochsenziemer in his hands. 

Calvi had made them watch, taking a break from their sharpshooting practice so that they could view the show. And at first, there had been very little to see. Egon had taken the whip in his hand, dipped it in the water, and with a loud CRACK, brought it down against the man’s back. 

In turn, the Soviet had to shout, “One!”

This had merely left a stinging, red rash. But on the fifth lash, when Egon crossed over one of his previous markings, blood began to trickle from the wound. And it was on the fifth lash, that Egon brought in one of his SS friends. They took turns at it, and it appeared that every two lashes counted as one with their fabricated loophole. 

It took awhile before any true amounts of blood could be seen. Reiner didn’t know how many lashes it had taken to do so, as the Soviet had lost track at one point. And when he had, he was forced to start over from one, much to the delight of the SS soldiers gathered around. 

The blood began to drip down his skin, staining it red; rivulets of color against the pale white of his untanned back. And soon, that white became nonexistent, flaps of flesh beginning to tear off from where they should have been, separating from him due to the cruelty of the constant whip. 

At one point the Soviet had fainted, losing track of the count again, and Egon had dumped cold water over his head, making him start over. 

It wasn’t until a lash had accidentally found his way to his neck that the Soviet hunched over, completely unresponsive. 

He died shortly after.

_\/__\/__\/_

The seventh month. The young Jew.

Reiner had very little interactions with the other prisoners in Dachau. He only spoke with his fellow Warriors, and even when he tried to say hello to the adults, they either ignored him or completely walked away. He had a feeling it had something to do with the rules of being a Warrior, but he had never gotten a chance to ask, and he didn’t intend to when he could so easily anger his superiors. 

There had been a boy though. Not necessarily a child like him, but not quite an adult either. He was much like Zeke, but he had all the features a Jew was supposed to have. And for that, Reiner had first been wary. It wasn’t until the boy had called him over with a sad look that Reiner eventually sat down to listen to what he had to say. 

“I’ll get in trouble for this, you know.” He had a slight smile on his face, but it felt empty. “Not that I care too much anymore. My name is Udo, yours?”

“Reiner.” He hesitated, looking at the boy’s face to try and sense any ulterior motives, but when he found nothing, he moved closer. 

“That’s a fine name. Very German.” He nodded, staring at the cloudy sky. “You’re lucky to be here, you know? In this camp.”

Reiner frowned, confused, “How am I lucky?”

“You don’t know what it’s like, out there, in the rest of the Reich…” Udo trailed off, continuing to look up. “I’ve seen horrible things.”

The Warrior looked back toward the barracks, suddenly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking. 

“I used to be jumpier, panicky. I used to worry about what they’d think of me, before all this happened, before I realized it was useless anyway.”

“They?”

“The Germans… No, not just them. Everyone. Everyone hates us.”

“But we deserve it.” Reiner folded his arms across his chest, and Udo nearly laughed at the way he looked - very much like a toddler mimicking their parents’ movements - until the brightness faded from his eyes and he turned to the clouds again. 

“Maybe we do.” Udo pulled himself up to his feet and leaned down in front of Reiner, placing a hand atop his head. “Let’s talk tomorrow, okay?”

Reiner didn’t know if he wanted to, and yet he found himself returning to Udo the next day, sitting beside the older teen. It was then that Udo spoke at great lengths. Sharing about his experiences in Poland, and how he eventually ended up in Dachau. He talked about his lady-love, a German that spurned him the second she found out he was Jewish. He talked about his parents - shot down by the SS where they stood. 

And for once, Reiner felt himself hurt for a fellow Jew. Not because he was one and had suffered because of it, but because Reiner now knew Udo as Udo, and Udo shouldn’t have had to lose everything as he did. 

“Thank you,” Udo had said it at the end of one of their meetings. Something wholly not allowed, and something extremely dangerous, but something Reiner couldn’t seem to stay away from. “Thank you for listening when nobody else would.”

Reiner tilted his head, as he played with the grass underneath himself. “It’s okay. I didn’t mind.”

Udo turned toward him, patted his head, and grinned one of his empty smiles. One that looked so incredibly lost and sad. “Goodbye, Reiner.”

He didn’t look up from the grass, accustomed to Udo’s farewells. “See you tomorrow then-?” 

It was at the end of the sentence that Reiner finally noticed Udo hadn’t gone back in the direction of his barracks. He was making his way toward the border fence, toward the guard tower and the no man's land where many desperate prisoners had died, and even as Reiner pulled himself to his feet, running in the direction of the Jew, he knew he’d be too late. 

A sharp bang sounded out across the courtyard, and Reiner watched as Udo fell forward, a bullet in his brain and a smile on his face.

_\/__\/__\/_

Annie and Pieck. The first year.

The Warriors had gotten used to the monotony of each day. Get up, stand for roll call, go to lessons, eat lunch (usually a bit of bread and soup), continue lessons, go to the evening roll call, eat supper (soup again), and go to sleep. 

However, in the evening, Pieck was usually the deciding factor in whether or not a day became interesting. She was always the unpredictable type - the type of person that would be perfectly willing to climb into Porco’s bed in the middle of the night, just to see how he’d react (which is something she had done, and the result was a very, very red boy and a hunched over older brother who couldn’t stop laughing). 

She brightened their lives, even when death and pain constantly surrounded all of them. 

Which is why it was so hard to see her cry. 

The day had begun like any other, and it had continued just the same. English lessons were in the morning; Reiner was getting better, but he couldn’t seem to match the rest. Pieck was outdoing all of them, Marcel having fallen behind her progress. Bertholdt was catching up though, and began to shaikly work at speaking the language. 

The afternoon was focused on physical training. They were handed guns - models that matched the weight of real ones - and forced to run with them. They ran for miles, and after they had all collapsed on the ground (Reiner falling dead last), they moved right into real shooting. 

Bertholdt was a natural. Reiner, less so. But his friend helped him through it, and he finally found something he didn’t completely fail at. At least, not as badly as he did everything else. He was slightly better than Pieck and Porco, but not by much, and with everything else besides loyalty to the Reich, he barely matched. He needed to find a solution, fast, because he knew he needed to be something better than proud words and nationalistic sentiments for Calvi to keep supporting him. 

It was while he was spending extra time practicing English that it happened. His bed was closest to the wall that led to their classroom, the door near to the base of the cot. He had been sitting beside Bertholdt, who was already fast asleep, and gradually shifting about in his sleep - something he knew would eventually result in a weird twist of limbs and blanket. All was silent for a little while, but it was soon broken by light whispers on the other side of the wooden barrier. 

“And Himmler requested this?”

“He said he heard rumors about it. He wants it tested to see whether it’s true or not.”

“So then we’ll have to wait a few days. Ravensbrück isn’t exactly close.”

“There’s another way.”

“... You can’t mean them.” 

“You’ve always had a soft spot for children, haven’t you Magath? But it’s no matter. I won’t make them go _all_ the way if it will help ease your conscience.”

“But-”

“They’re vagrants and parasites, are they not? Annie needs to learn who’s in charge, and Pieck, she needs to remember her place.”

That same voice continued. “Besides, it’s highly likely that using children will produce better results from our patients. They’re disgusting like that, no?” 

Reiner didn’t know what it all meant, but he did know that it dealt with Annie, and that caused him to get to his feet. What could he do? Should he stand there in front of the door? Should he block them somehow, tell them to do wherever it was to him instead? 

He froze at that thought. He began to get clammy, perspiration sliding from his forehead to his cheeks, falling to the floor. No, he wasn’t nearly brave enough to stand in the face of Calvi, but he did know somebody who was. 

Rushing over to Porco and Marcel’s bed, he grabbed at the older brother’s arm, pulling him out from beneath their blanket. “Marcel, Marcel you gotta get up.” 

Marcel was groggy, his eyes searching the room for some hidden attacker, only to find Reiner’s golden eyes staring down at him. “Mmhg? Reiner? What?” 

“They’re gonna do something. I don’t know what it is, but they’re gonna do something to Annie and Pieck.” 

Marcel immediately got up from the bed, running a quick hand through his messy hair. “Okay.” He stood on his feet, shaking his head to clear away the cotton from his head. “Okay.” He reached out a hand, lightly touched Reiner’s shoulder - for once, the boy didn’t flinch as he usually did. “Thank you for telling me.” 

Reiner backed away as Marcel approached the door, standing a few steps away from it, in between the wood and the fabric that led to the girl’s side. It only took a few more seconds for the door to swing open and Calvi to come walking out. He had one of those constant grins on his face, but as soon as he saw Marcel standing there, displaying a determined, protective, expression, he frowned. That was never a good sign. “Marcel. You should be asleep, shouldn’t you? I really don’t want to have to take away your father and your brother’s dinner because you can’t listen to rules.”

“I-” He hesitated at the threat, but stood his ground. “I’ll take their punishment. Whatever Annie and Pieck did, please let me take their place.”

Calvi leaned down, his frown shifting to a light, breathy laugh. “Oh, Marcel, I don’t think you understand what’s going on here.” 

Calvi sat down on the concrete floor, pulling Marcel down onto his lap. Reiner immediately felt uncomfortable, but didn’t make any movements, trying to hide away in the dark. 

“You don’t get it at all, do you?” Calvi reached up with one of his gloved hands, putting his thumb and forefinger in Marcel’s mouth so he could grasp at one of his teeth. “I could tear this out right now. As punishment. Because you don’t seem to understand the hierarchy here. Or…” He pulled his hand from Marcel’s mouth and gripped at the boy’s wrist, “I could tie your arms up behind your back and hang you from the pole in the bathhouse. Just in case I fancy doing it.” He moved his hand and pulled his pistol from its place at his side. “I could just…” He raised the barrel to Marcel’s head and let it rest there, “Shoot you here and now. Do you want me to shoot you? I can do so, if you think you’re going to continue to stand between me and what I want.”

Marcel was shivering, something Reiner had never seen before. _“Please don’t shoot me.”_

“Good. You now realize who I am, yes?” Marcel nodded, and Calvi allowed him to climb to his feet, backing away. “What do you say?”

Marcel hesitated before finding the right words. “Thank you, Uncle Calvi.” 

“Mm, of course.” Calvi stepped forward and paused once he reached the fabric. “And Reiner?”

The blond’s breath caught in his throat. 

“I assume you now know the consequences of protecting your sister, yes? I won’t hesitate to blow your brains out the second you show disloyalty to me and the Reich.”

Reiner blinked, looking to the gun at Calvi’s side. “Y-yes, Uncle Calvi.” 

“Ah, now that that’s all cleared up,” Calvi patted his legs and pushed himself to his feet, pulling back the fabric wall so that he could peer into the room. 

Reiner could just barely see them, bright eyes shining in the darkness. 

“I’ve got a surprise for the both of you. Are you ready?” 

For once, Reiner thought he saw true fear on Annie’s face.

_\/__\/__\/_

Reiner stayed up the entire night with Marcel. At some point, Bertholdt and Porco had joined them, but none of them spoke to one another. Breaking the silence would make everything real, and none of them wanted to accept that.

By the time the two girls returned, Reiner assumed that at least three hours had passed. The moon was covered by clouds, so there were no lights to see them by, but the other Warriors could hear them. 

They were crying. 

It wasn't what he expected. He knew that Calvi had been planning on doing something with them - he didn’t know exactly what it entailed (The standing cell? Pole hanging? No, they needed _women,_ didn’t they?) - but he never thought that either of them would’ve been crying at the end of it. He had always seen his sister as some… invincible hero. A cold, mean hero, but one all the same. She had always been there to protect him, even though she made sure he knew she was annoyed about it. And Pieck, Pieck was too… Reiner still didn’t have a good read of her, but he did know that she was _brave._ She was determined and sure of herself, and even when he watched her during her weak moments, he remembered that she’d never let the tears fall. She’d wipe at her eyes, smile, and move on. 

Which made it all the more concerning. 

If only he had just- Then he remembered the gun and Marcel’s face and Calvi’s smile. No matter what he said, whether he stood there beside Marcel or not, he would’ve been in the same situation. He couldn’t beat Calvi, he couldn’t protect his sister from him, and he knew his mother would be telling him he shouldn’t even try. If Germany wanted her punished, then it shall be done. 

Could he still believe that? Maybe. He didn’t know if it scared him or not.

Reiner slid forward, the blanket scratching against his skin, wondering if he should slip through the fabric to see if he could do something… anything, really. But a cold hand shot out and held his shoulder in place. 

Reiner looked over to Bertholdt, raising a single eyebrow, to which the boy responded with a small shake of the head. _Don’t._

Bertholdt always _knew_ more. Ever since they were young, the taller boy had managed to read people with the type of understanding only older children could have - perhaps even adults. It was like magic, the way he worked with others and balanced moods out. And so, if he was determined to make Reiner stop, it was probably best that he did. 

But Reiner had always been a terrible listener when it came to his friend’s advice. 

Brushing off Bertholdt’s hand, Reiner cautiously got to his feet, moving toward the fabric curtain to peek into the room. He didn’t notice the approaching Porco behind him, stretching so that he could peer over Reiner’s shoulder. 

Neither of them made a move after that. Not after seeing the two girls curled up next to one another, finding solace in each other’s warmth.

_\/__\/__\/_

During the first and second week, Pieck and Annie had stayed close to one another. Porco attempted to speak to Pieck on occasion, but she didn’t reply like she used to. She often went strangely silent, and rarely appeared to be present and in the moment. Even Reiner, who was terrified of what Annie could do when she was angry, stepped over and tried to initiate a conversation. She’d flinch away, and he was left wondering about what had happened for the two of them to become so despondent.

It wasn’t until week three that they began to open up again. At first it was with Pieck’s laugh, and then it was with Annie’s gloating smirk as she took down another sparring partner. Eventually they began talking during their meals - although that was more Pieck than Annie. 

When Annie finally gripped at Bertholdt’s pinkie and Pieck jokingly leaned into Porco’s side, Reiner knew that things were better. Not yet healed - not when he knew they were still hiding from their demons - but working towards it. 

He woke up in the middle of the night during the third week. Bertholdt was missing from the bed, and he startled, pushing himself up onto his elbows so that he could look around the room. He wasn’t there, but Marcel was, sitting down between the two beds. 

“Hey, where’s-?”

Mercel shook his head, putting a finger to his lips 

Reiner shifted on his side, leaning forward to whisper his question instead. “Where’s Bertholdt? And why are you awake?”

None of them were supposed to be, and yet, there they were, breaking the rules. 

The brother-figure of the group tilted his head toward the bed he and Porco shared. Reiner followed his movements and when he landed on the two figures, his eyes widened in recognition. “Porco and Pieck?”

Marcel softly nodded and moved back to rest against the side of Reiner’s bed, looking at them for only a moment. They were sitting beside one another, whispering about something, but it was far too low to be discernible. At one point, Porco moved his arm to encircle her shoulder, and for once, Pieck didn’t lean away. 

“And…?”

Marcel pointed at the fabric dividing the two sides of the room. Reiner gently pulled off the blanket and tiptoed across the wood - even despite Marcel trying to get him to come back. Just like with Bertholdt before, he didn’t listen. He just wanted to see; he wanted to make sure that everything was okay. 

When he looked, he saw that they were both asleep. Bertholdt and Annie. He always knew that they had some sort of connection, something that he had never really been able to realize, but he didn’t come to terms with it until he saw them there - backs to one another, sleeping in relative comfort. Both of the girls had nightmares, he remembered waking up to crying before, but for once, for once neither of them, Annie or Pieck, seemed to be in pain. 

He backed away with a slight smile on his face, climbing onto his bed, pulling the blanket up to his chin. He waited there for a moment and then patted the cot, glancing in Marcel’s direction. “I doubt Bertholdt’s coming back.”

Marcel paused and then climbed up to join him, folding his arms across his chest as he laid back, staring up at the ceiling. “Thank you.”

Reiner nodded, surprised at himself. He had grown accustomed to the different races of the Warriors, even accepted them to a point, but this felt like he was beginning to get close to the others, and he didn’t quite know how to feel about that. 

“Sometimes people just need to be comforted.” 

“Hm?” Reiner leaned over to look at Marcel as he spoke. 

“Annie and Pieck? You’ve seen how they’ve been. You and I don’t know the details, but… whatever happened really messed them up. It’s good that they’ve found people they can trust here, you know?” 

“Yeah,” Reiner raised his arm, looking at the details of his palm. “I wish I could’ve done something to help my sister earlier. If I had been with you- But then the gun, and Calvi, and-”

“It’s alright,” Marcel shook his head and subconsciously joined Reiner in staring at his hand. “We couldn’t have done anything besides die.”

“I guess so.” Reiner lowered his arm and met Marcel’s eyes, “Isn’t that all we’re good for? Dying?”

Marcel snorted and shrugged. “Dying for the Reich? Yeah. It seems to be that way.” 

Reiner shifted his head and looked up at the ceiling again. “That isn’t such a bad end, is it? At least we’d be heroes.”

Marcel went abnormally silent, and Reiner didn’t ask why.

**| Cultural Exchange |**

During their second year, the group had become closer as a whole. Annie tried staying as distant as possible, but despite her best efforts, she kept getting pulled in. Even Reiner, who was always so focused on the idea of the Aryan master-race and how he and all the others like him should be ashamed of themselves, made friends with the Warriors around him. It was only Porco he struggled with, and that was less due to the boy’s Polish heritage and more due to his insufferable attitude.

It was on June twenty-third that things began to change again. Pieck was acting differently. Which wasn’t particularly uncommon in her case, but the way in which she silently went about her business made the rest of the Warriors share concerned glances. 

She seemed down the entire day, her eyes looking off into the distance, her mistakes as they studied English and French, her tripping as she walked - her focus not on her feet, but on something else entirely. 

Reiner paid close attention to her movements, and at one point, he managed to catch what she had been staring at; the flowers next to the soldiers’ barracks. That gave him more questions than answers, but he didn’t ask about it, choosing instead to kick at the dirt as he waited for Annie to, once again, take Porco down in one move. 

During lunch, Reiner watched as Pieck excused herself, walking out onto the appellplatz to sit and fiddle with her prisoner clothing. Porco joined her after asking permission, and the two exchanged a few words. He couldn’t tell what they were saying, but Pieck left first, heading back inside. Reiner immediately ducked his head, pretending like he hadn’t just been spying, but Pieck wasn’t concerned with him in the slightest. 

So, he resumed staring out the window and watched as Porco was joined by Zeke. The older Warrior leaned down and listened as the younger spoke a few words, to which Zeke nodded and ruffled his hair. Porco then came inside and acted as though nothing had happened. 

Reiner shot him a look when the boy sat next to him at the table, but Porco only frowned and mumbled a quiet, “What are you looking at?” 

Then, when evening came around, Reiner once again noticed Porco and Zeke walking away from the group to speak to one another. This time, Zeke had something in his hands. Reiner couldn’t tell exactly what it was, but he did hear Porco’s loud ‘thank you.’ It was quickly reigned back in when Zeke sent him an exasperated look, gesturing to the SS soldiers in the distance. 

As soon as everyone had come inside, all staying on the same side so that they could eat dinner together, Reiner spotted what Zeke had given Porco. _Flowers._ They were mainly yellow in color, but a few dots of pink and blue could be seen among them. 

He was tempted to ask what Porco was doing with a bunch of flowers, but it would’ve been of no use as Porco quickly walked over to Pieck’s side, reaching out while rubbing the back of his neck. “I-I found you some.” 

Pieck glanced at the flowers, then at Porco, her eyes widening and a large smile spreading across her face. She said nothing, but instead threw herself at him, Porco having to drop the flowers on the bed to make sure he caught the flying girl. “Oh, Pock, thank you! How’d you-? Nevermind.” She shook her head and leaned away from him, keeping her hands around his neck so that she didn’t fall. Pieck paused there a few moments, taking it in, before moving back to grasp at the flower stems. “It’s not lady’s bedstraw, but I’m sure the Sânziană will be forgiving given the situation.” She twirled one of the yellow flowers in her hand. “It’s perfect. It’s so perfect, Pock.” 

Porco was a blushing mess again, and he looked away so that he didn’t have to embarrass himself further, especially in front of all the other Warriors who were now staring at the pair in interest. 

“The Sanzi- what did you say?” Annie blinked, completely screwing up the pronunciation. 

Pieck moved back with the bundle of plants in her hands. “The Sânziană! They’re the fairies that-” She shook her head. “Have you heard of Midsummer?”

Reiner, Annie, and Bertholdt all looked at Pieck blankly, but Marcel nodded. 

“Tomorrow’s June twenty-fourth. It’s the middle of summer and, well, we celebrate it in my culture. It’s called Sânziene though, not Midsummer.” She began to braid pieces of her hair as she spoke. “The spirits beyond the veil can join us on Sânziene Eve, and they bless the crops and wildflowers with their magic as long as Sânziene is respected. If it isn’t then… bad things happen.” She paused on that last part, glancing over to Annie for a brief moment before resuming. “I don’t remember all of the details. It’s been so long since we were last able to celebrate, but I remember the flowers, I remember the wreaths, and I know we’re supposed to throw them on the roof at some point. I just can’t remember why.” She moved to the other side of her face, braiding pieces on that side as well. “And you.” She pointed to the boys. “Can’t go outside for any reason.”

Reiner frowned, raising an eyebrow. “Why?” All of this seemed so… strange. It obviously wasn’t real, why did she care that much? 

Pieck grinned. “It wouldn’t be fun if I just _told_ you, would it?”

He glowered in annoyance, but didn’t push the question any further. 

“Well, what do you do now?” Marcel leaned forward, kicking his legs back and forth. 

“I make the wreath! Maybe. Or is that tomorrow?” She shook her head. “I don’t think I’ll get the chance to celebrate tomorrow, I may as well just do it tonight.” She took the stems and began to weave them together, separating the pile in half. 

They all watched her as she worked, the silence continuing for a long time before Marcel interrupted it. “We never celebrated any pagan holidays. Our dad’s a clergyman, but we did have a few songs.”

He left it open, as though he was hoping someone would ask him to share, which Pieck immediately did. “Well, what are they?” 

“Porco?” Marcel looked to his brother who had finally calmed down from his previous embarrassment. He immediately frowned and shook his head - he wasn’t going to go right back into the frying pan. “Oh come on, it isn’t that bad.”

“You’re going to want me to do one of those chants and I don’t remember any latin and it’s going to sound bad. No.” 

Marcel sighed and explained their practices through dialogue instead. “I’m not so sure it can be easily put down into words. Not unless all of you want to stay up the rest of the night.” He fiddled with his hands. “We’re Roman Catholics, which is different from Eastern Orthodox or Protestant or… You get the picture. But we all believe in the Old Testament and the New Testament.”

Porco jumped in, looking toward the three Jews. “And you. You guys only stick to the Old Testament?”

“Not exactly,” Bertholdt jumped in, saving Annie and Reiner. “We read the first five books - the Torah.” 

Pieck continued braiding the stems, looking over at the twins and then to Bertholdt. “But none of you really seem like you _practice_ Judaism.”

“I do. Or, I used to. Until things became difficult,” Bertholdt said, sweating. 

Reiner knew Annie wasn’t going to speak for them, so he shook his head, feeling awkward. “No.” He decided not to add his other thoughts. That all of this was wrong and they really weren’t allowed to be speaking about any of this. That God and gods didn’t exist. That fairies didn’t either.

“Well, do you have anything you remember?” She was looking directly at the twins this time.

Reiner hesitated, wondering if he should open up like the rest. All of them had, and even despite his long-standing indoctrination and brainwashing, he couldn’t help but feel like, finally, they were all becoming friends. “Yeah. A little.” 

Pieck tilted her head, waiting for him to continue. 

“There was this song mom liked to sing…”

She leaned forward now, encouraging him. 

He blushed and looked away, staring at the far wall. Did he really want to do this? Did he want to share something his mother alone had given her two children, something that kept him going during the night and made sure his dreams were soft and light? Yes. He suddenly realized he did. He liked the Warriors. Despite everything, he liked them. And so, shakily, he recited the lines in that squeaky voice of his.

_“Sleep, sleep,  
My baby dear.  
Don’t cry, for they’ll know,  
That we are hiding down here.  
And when it is safe,  
We will hurry for the plane,  
And you’ll never remember the war.”_

_“The sounds of the streets,  
Won’t trouble your dreams,  
As I cover your ears,  
For to block out the screams.  
The smells of the gunsmoke,  
And tear gas, and blood,  
are only all parts of the war.”_

_“If your father could see you,  
He’d be so full of pride.  
He protected us well,  
And by this he died.  
He’s gone on to a place,  
That is peaceful and bright,  
And he’ll never be living a war.”_

_“Oh, hush hush,  
My baby dear.  
Don’t cry, for they’ll know,  
That we are hiding down here.  
And when it is safe,  
We will hurry for the plane,  
And you’ll never remember the war.”_

They all went quiet after that. It was not the singer, nor the way he sung it that gave them pause, it was the lyrics that caused them to still. For each, it meant different things, and each reacted in different ways.

In Porco’s case, he immediately tried to dismiss the awkward silence. “Promise me you’ll never become a musician, Braun.” 

Reiner laughed, and the spell was broken.

“That’s kind of dark, isn’t it?” Pieck had shuffled over to Annie’s side, and without warning, produced a second wreath of flowers from behind her back, casually setting it atop Annie’s head. Annie glanced back at her, but didn’t reach up to take it off, content with letting it rest - maybe not even content, Reiner thought he saw a small smile on her face. “I mean, it isn’t bad, but isn’t that supposed to be a lullaby?” 

Reiner shrugged. “I dunno. I guess I never really thought about it until now.”

“So is your father… y’know.” Porco cut a line across his neck with his thumb and flinched when Marcel threw one of his clogs at him. 

Annie spoke up then, playing with one of the dangling flowers. “No. But it would’ve been better for us if he was.” 

Reiner bit his tongue, doing his best to keep from shouting at her. Telling her that their dad was a good man, he just needed them to prove that they were better than other Jews, that they were worth his love. 

Pieck nodded in silent reflection then climbed to her feet, taking a second to balance out so that she wouldn’t fall flat on her face like she usually did. “I’m going to go toss my wreath on the roof now. You wanna come Annie?”

His twin paused, fiddling with the flowers before eventually nodding. It wasn’t like they could keep them anyway. 

However, Reiner reached out a hand. “Wait. Won’t you get in trouble for that? If the soldiers see the flowers in the morning, then-”

“It’s okay,” Pieck came over and lightly flicked his forehead, her eyes sad, “It’s not like they can do anything else to me.”

Reiner went silent and watched as the two girls walked out, heading toward the side of the building. Reiner had to stand on his tip-toes on the cot, but he managed to spy on the pair as they began lining up their shots. Pieck waved the gathered boys a hi - Porco and Marcel had gone to another window, Bertholdt had joined him at his - and then flung her arm wide, watching as the flowers sailed through the air. 

It hit the side and fell back down. 

Pieck frowned as Annie got hers on top of the roof on her first try, but quickly brightened as she grabbed her fallen wreath, managing to get it up on her second try. 

When they came back in, Pieck took a bow, and the boys felt obligated to give her a light round of applause. Annie completely ignored it, although she seemed a lot happier than she had been days previously. 

All of them went to bed that night with full hearts, and in the morning, when they saw the wreaths gone and a tired Magath in the room waiting to teach them, they were prepared for the days to come. They could do it together - they could face it all.

**| Letters |**

Nearly halfway through their second year, Calvi announced that he had something for all of them. At first, they had all been wary - minus Reiner who was still very much under the effects of his mother’s teachings, even if he felt comfortable around his fellow Warriors. But he had assured them all that it was a great gift, one they’d greatly appreciate.

And so, when he left to go get whatever it was, Reiner followed Pieck’s motioning hand and joined the group around her table. “So, what do you think it is?”

“I hope it’s candy,” Porco said, practically salivating as he thought about it, “Chocolate would be way better, though. I don’t think I’ve had any chocolate in years.”

“Is food the only thing you think of?” Annie scoffed, pushing him away as he subconsciously forced himself into her space. 

“No,” He paused, “Maybe.”

“I wonder if he’ll let us get a free day,” Reiner said, then backtracked, “Ah, no… He needed to go get something.”

“Right,” Marcel scratched his face. “It’s a long shot, but maybe he’ll let us visit our families? At least once before we go on whatever mission he has us doing.”

Pieck’s mouth twisted, “Mm, I doubt that. He’s been consistent about making sure we don’t get any interaction with them.” 

“Maybe he's getting six guns so he can shoot all of us at the same time,” Annie spread out across the table, “At least we’d be put out of our misery.”

Bertholdt immediately nudged her with his elbow. “Haha, that was a _joke.” ___

__“No it wasn’t.”_ _

__Annie stared up at him blankly and Bertholdt stared right back, exasperated._ _

__“Maybe we’re getting our own guns? Instead of those training ones.” Marcel sat on the table. “I mean, what if it’s nearly time for the mission?”_ _

__“Nobodies been talking about the Allies,” Reiner frowned, “We’re only supposed to go out once the Allies start beating the Reich - and that’s never going to happen.”_ _

__“Oh, little loyal Nazi boy, here to weigh in,” Porco leaned closer to Reiner, glaring._ _

__Reiner turned to face him. “Yeah? You seem to want me to report you to Uncle Calvi for-”_ _

__“Guys, come on. Not now,” Marcel ran a hand over his face and shooed them away with his free arm. “Let’s get back to our seats before Calvi walks in.”_ _

__They did so, and it took only a few more minutes before he came back through the door, holding a stack of papers in his hands. Before he could even begin speaking, Pieck burst out with, “Letters!” She quickly clapped a hand over her mouth at Calvi’s stare - something none of them wanted directed at them._ _

__“Yes. Letters.” He held up the envelopes and casually flipped through them, “Marcel and Porco.”_ _

__The two quickly got out of their seats, Marcel standing still, muscles tense, holding himself back as he let his brother grab the letter first and tear into it._ _

__“Bertholdt.”_ _

__The tall boy stood still, as if he couldn’t truly believe there was a letter waiting for him. A letter from his father. A _real letter._ He cautiously took a step forward as Calvi waved it, and eventually, he made it over, taking the paper into his hands. _ _

__“Pieck.” He gave her a look as he said it, but held it out._ _

__She scrambled over and headed back to her seat, finding it hard to open up the flap of the envelope, her hands shaking._ _

__“Annie and Reiner.”_ _

__Reiner looked toward his sister, but she was still lying flat on the table. When he pulled at her shoulder slightly, she flipped over and shook her head. _You go, nothing in there for me._ He understood her meaning immediately and walked to the front, taking the paper from Calvi with a smile. _ _

__Once he returned to the table, he kicked at Annie’s chair leg and she sighed, leaning on Reiner’s shoulder as he slid the paper out of the envelope and began to unfold each crease slowly. His mother had touched this paper. His mother had dipped a pen in ink and written each and every word. His mother was safe, as was the rest of his family. The more they did for the Reich, the better they would be._ _

__He almost didn’t want to look at it. He felt like he was intruding on something sacred, something untouched. Something for him, but something he didn’t yet want to face. He missed her so much, he missed her guidance, her love. He wanted her back, and once this letter was read and finished, that would be the last of it._ _

__It wasn’t until Annie blew into his eardrum in annoyance that he finished opening the paper, quickly scanning the words._ _

____

_To my little Warriors,_

_I’m so proud of the both of you. I’m proud of the choices you’ve made and the people you’ve become. With that single answer, that single ‘yes,’ you became your family’s saviors, and there’s nothing I could write to truly express how happy I am with your growth._

_You’re proud citizens of the Reich. You’re supporting your country and your people, and with every action you take, you cement yourselves as heroes. You make all of us heroes._

_We’ll be Germans yet. We’ll be loved and accepted. And your father too; he’d be overjoyed to know what you’re doing to support the Fatherland. If you continue to make me proud, to make everyone proud, then there’s no way we can’t be a family after your mission is complete._

_It’s the perfect picture of a perfect world, and I know the two of you can make it possible._

_For the glory of the Reich,_

_Your mother_

Reiner flipped the paper over, expecting more, hoping for more, but he found nothing. Until, that is, Annie pointed to the back corner. And there, scribbled with an unpracticed hand, was:

_I love you!_

When he saw those three words, clearly written by Gabi (likely helped by her mother), he smiled. He smiled and he couldn’t stop smiling. He touched the dried ink with a single finger and traced each curve of each and every line. He missed his cousin so much. So incredibly much.

When he folded the sheet up again and slid it into his pocket he looked around at the other faces in the room. Bertholdt was grinning openly, laughing with tears in the corners of his eyes - he was rarely as open as that, but Reiner understood why he wouldn’t care in the slightest as he read his father’s letter. 

Marcel and Porco were crouched over their paper, both of them wiping at their eyes, but both of them smiling just as wide as one another. 

Pieck, however, seemed to be just as lost as the Brauns. Although, perhaps for a different reason. Her expression hinted at surprise, perhaps worry, but ended with tears, a small smile, and a closed off stare. As soon as she caught reiner looking, she shoved the piece of paper behind her back and gave him a little wave. “How was yours?”

“Good.” And for once, when it came to something about his mother, he knew he was lying. 

“Mine too.” 

A pair of liars, one and the same.

**| The Last Day |**

Three years. They had spent three years together. They woke up together, they ate together, they trained together, they learned together, they grew close together. They were together in all ways, which was why it was incredibly hard to process the announcement Calvi had just made.

“What?”

“Four of you will go on the mission, the other two will remain here.” Calvi ran a hand along the desk in front of the room, tapping his fingers. 

“But-!”

“The two that stay here will be able to go join their families. That’s not such a bad deal, is it?”

All of the Warriors quieted. 

“We’re planning on sending you out within the week. Tomorrow we’ll announce who’s leaving. Prepare yourselves.”

With that, they were dismissed.

_\/__\/__\/_

Training had slowed down those last few days. Especially for Pieck and Porco, who were no longer a part of the Warriors.

Reiner hadn’t been expecting it. He was happy with it, but he hadn’t figured he’d be the one chosen for the job. He was average on all fronts, less than average on quite a few. He was good at English, yes, perhaps slightly better than others when it came to strategy, but he constantly struggled with everything else. Unless, unless Calvi was looking for someone loyal to the Reich. And if he was, then there was nobody better than Reiner. 

He found himself grateful. If Calvi had chosen him, then he surely deserved it. He was finally going to be the hero his mother had always wished him to be. Finally… Finally Germany and his father could respect him. And his friends, they’d all make it too. They just had to fight the Allied devils, and then everything would be alright. 

Right, the Allies. 

During their three years at Dachau, they had been told stories about the horrible devil-kind that had teamed up to destroy the beautiful Fatherland. They were puppeteered by Jews, and they had all types of degenerates in their ranks. Worst of all, they’d do anything to see that every single person in Germany died, even the untermensch that resided there. They were hellbent on the destruction of the Reich. 

It was a thought that terrified all of the Warriors - and Reiner, who was the most trusting of the group, had a hard time tamping down that fear. They weren’t only going up against another human being. These Allies were devils, demons, the kind of people that would viciously tear apart another just to see if they could bleed. 

How could they fight against people like that? Was it even possible? 

Reiner figured he should be thankful that they weren’t humans. They were fighting against creatures that needed to die - they weren’t people like him, they were less than less. It was what he had been taught to believe, and it was all he could manage to believe. After all, it was a sentiment his mother had forced upon him his entire life. 

“Hey, Reiner, you there?” Bertholdt waved a hand in front of Reiner’s face, to which the blond nodded, waking himself up. 

“Yeah,” He stretched and continued to fill the sack in front of him. “What were you saying, Marcel?” 

The boy sighed with a smile, pointing to a map on the table. “Calvi told us about most of the logistics-” 

“Uncle Calvi,” Reiner murmured, halfway expecting the man to come out from the darkness and punish Marcel for ignoring his title. 

“ _Uncle_ Calvi told us about most of the logistics, but all in all, it looks like we’re on our own. It’s our job to make sure we infiltrate, trick, and trap as many devil-squads as possible. As long as we can do that, our families will be safe and the Reich will prosper.” 

Reiner nodded, grimacing at some of the food choices he was allotted. They needed to be convincing, so that meant nothing too fresh and nothing too rare. 

“Zeke will be surveying us from a distance. He’ll be our go-between. We’ll give him locations, information, numbers, and he’ll send that information back to Calvi. We’ll help find the best ambush spots and lead them there, or, suggest that they go there, at least.” 

“Yeah, we got it,” Annie laced her boots, moving to tie up her hair once the treads were knotted. 

Marcel shot a look at Annie and then moved to Reiner, his expression desperate. Reiner only shrugged in return - there was nothing he could do about his twin, she’d never willingly listen to him. 

“It’s still a good idea to make sure we all understand what’s going on.” He dragged his forefinger across the parchment. “We’ll be moving west. The Allies have crossed the Rhine, but Uncle Calvi says that the Reich has a strong chance of surviving. They’re already gathering more reinforcements, more support, and every single German civilian is fighting back. We can win this.” He closed his fists and shifted his attention to the group. “I’m the designated English-speaker. It looks strange if we can all understand it, so make sure to pretend like you don’t when they talk to you.” He paused. “Are there any questions?”

Annie clicked her tongue, bored. “Let’s get on with it. Once it’s finished, it’s over, and we can be back home.” 

Bertholdt nodded, slightly, and Reiner joined him, more enthused. 

“Okay. Alright. Let’s… say our goodbyes then.” Marcel walked to the door, opening it so that the other three could exit the building. 

There, on the appellplatz, stood Calvi, Magath, and Zeke, and beside them, Porco and Pieck. 

Reiner watched as Marcel rolled his shoulders back, trying to contain himself, trying to look brave; he had to say goodbye to his brother for who knows how long. If Annie wasn’t on the mission, Reiner wasn’t entirely sure what state he’d be in. He had Bertholdt too. He was… lucky, all things considered. 

Porco was bouncing on his feet, until finally, he couldn’t contain himself. He ran forward and nearly tackled Marcel with a huge hug, squeezing the very life out of his older brother. Marcel began to laugh, and after a few moments, that laugh turned into a choked sob. Reiner had never seen Marcel like that, and he didn’t know if he wanted to. He looked at his feet instead, trying to ignore the fact that Porco was also crying. It was muffled by the sound of Marcel’s ratty shirt, but it was there all the same. 

When the two pulled away from one another, Porco was viciously wiping at his face, trying to hide the blubbering tears and the stained red of his cheeks. The two murmured a few words, and when Marcel left to go say bye to Pieck, Reiner found that it was his turn. 

“Didn’t take you for a crybaby.” Reiner smiled, wide, and Porco immediately raised his fist, ready to deck him. “Hey! No. Sorry. I was just-”

“You shouldn’t have gotten it.”

“Huh?”

“I should be there. On the mission. It isn’t supposed to be _you.”_

“That’s not true! I-” 

“I’m sure you know better than to question my decision making, right Porco?” Calvi watched the proceedings with a calculated eye, and Porco immediately shriveled into himself. 

“Yes, Uncle Calvi.” He shifted his attention back to Reiner, and in a split-second decision, gripped the blond’s shoulder. “Make sure my brother makes it out alive, okay? Make sure… make sure everyone comes back.” 

Reiner blinked at the sudden change in attitude, but he slowly nodded. “Yeah, I will… See you later, Porco.” This time he didn’t use ‘Pock’ just to annoy the other boy. He left that for Pieck, who was currently waving him over. 

Reiner stepped across the appellplatz and stood in front of Pieck awkwardly, scratching at his neck. “I-” 

Pieck shook her head and opened her arms. “Come, on. Hug me. Forget all those stupid words.” 

He grinned and pulled the smaller girl into a tight hug. When they parted, they both smiled, and then they both laughed, for no other reason than the fact that they could. “I’ll miss you, you know?”

“What? You weren’t expecting to like a Romani?”

Reiner snorted, “No, not exactly.”

“Well I’m glad I changed your mind.” She moved forward, pulled on his sleeves to make sure they were lined up, brushed back his longer hair, and nodded. “Alright. All set. Go kill those devils for us.” 

Reiner nodded and joined Marcel to the side, barely hearing Pieck add in, “I’ll miss you too.” 

As soon as Annie finished hugging Pieck - Reiner nearly found himself surprised at how genuine Annie’s goodbye was, but then he remembered how close they had grown, and he figured it really shouldn’t shock him at all - they were joined by Calvi who walked them to the gates of the camp. 

When they approached the metal, Reiner looked up at the sign, reading it for the second time. 

_‘Arbeit Macht Frei’_

How true that was. 

“You know what you’re supposed to do.” Calvi waved at the guards and opened up the gate with a wide swing of his arm. “And you know what happens if you fail.”

Reiner slowly nodded, the rest of the Warriors joining him. 

“Good.” Calvi motioned them through and shut the gate behind them as soon as they had passed through. “Don’t disappoint me.”

It wasn’t as though they had much of a choice. If they failed, their family would die. That was all there was to it. 

“We’ll succeed, Uncle Calvi. We’ll bring glory to the Reich.”

Calvi smiled, nodded, and disappeared. 

With that, they began their journey into enemy territory - alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo, way too long, never doing that again! But it felt weird to make all of these chapters separate. I think each scene is important, but I suppose it could be considered filler? So having five straight chapters of that would probably be too much. 
> 
> Looks like I'm legally obligated to make Reiner sing in all of my fics, but in this situation, he actually sucks lmao. 
> 
> Also! We gotta say bye to Pieck and Porco for awhile. I'm honestly really gonna miss writing them. Their dynamic? Lovely. Perfect. I want to write more. 
> 
> Notes!
> 
>  **Dachau daily routine:** I tried to keep this as accurate as possible. But, of course, the Warriors don't actually join the work details that leave each day. They stay in their barracks. 
> 
> **Appellplatz:** This literally means 'roll call place.' They used this term to describe the location where roll call happened. 
> 
> **Untermensch:** I think I forgot to clarify what this meant in a previous chapter. It's basically a term that was used to describe "inferior people" or "subhumans." 
> 
> **Josef Heiden:** Josef Heiden, an Austrian political prisoner, was a real kapo at Dachau. He was known for his use of extreme brutality, and was later released to join the Waffen-SS due to the 'merits' he earned. What I described in this chapter was taken from Stanislav Zámečník's observations as a prisoner at Dachau. 
> 
> **School tools:** It took me a year and a half just to figure out what tools they used in schools during this time. Either way, slates were occasionally used, but they did have books, pens, and ink for older kids. 
> 
> **Selektion:** The Nazi practice of selecting prisoners for execution. 
> 
> **Calvi:** I should mention that Calvi's personality is based directly off of Josef Mengele. And yes, Mengele was known to have children call him Uncle Mengele, he was known to give them sweets, and he was known to whistle as he walked about. And then, as soon as he experimented on the children he was previously 'kind' to, he'd switch to his actual personality. 
> 
> **Egon Zill:** A Schutzhaftlagerführer inspector at Dachau. They were the only people allowed to perform capital punishment on prisoners. He was known for his cruelty, and yet he was still released after fifteen years in prison once WWII ended. 
> 
> **Ochsenziemer:** A weapon made from an ox penis. I'm trying to find a better way to say this, but no, this is it. 
> 
> **Udo:** I was originally going to include a stranger in Udo's position, but then I thought about how Udo might have changed once he grew up. In this situation, suffering more years of hatred, I think it's highly likely that he could've lost himself. And it's really horrible, because this sort of thing happened often in concentration camps. Prisoners would head toward the walls so that they could be shot down by the guards - killing themselves. 
> 
> **Annie, Pieck, and the Ravensbrück situation:** Originally, I didn't want to include this. It's a tough subject, and it's disgusting that this was done to anyone at all. During the freezing experiments that took place at Dachau, Himmler requested that a rumor be tested - could a frozen man be warmed up by the sharing the company of women? They sent for four Romani prisoners from Ravensbrück to test it out by placing a hypothermic victim between two naked women. In this case, as there are already girls there, Calvi decided that using them would be easier. There was no rape, I could never include something like that, but it obviously had an effect on them. 
> 
> **Sânziene:** A Romanian Midsummer celebration. Most of the details are included in the chapter. 
> 
> **Lullaby Behind the Lines:** I believe I already sent the link, but here it is again. Had to write all the lyrics myself - that's the sucky part of choosing songs that nobody listens to: https://youtu.be/81e056xaCi8
> 
> I believe that's it, but If I need to clarify anything else, please let me know!


	6. Language Barriers

The first few miles were easy. Marcel held the map, but Bertholdt, Annie, and Reiner all had the experience. They knew Germany’s territory, and even though it had been years since they last stepped outside the camp, it didn’t take much from them to recognize the green fields and distant trees. 

It was their home, although that home was far less accepting of them than they were of it. 

“We’re trying to take out any squads that have managed to slip past our lines.” Marcel chewed on one of the apples they had packed, looking at the map in his other hand, “Then we’ll go toward the main fighting force. That poses a few difficulties since we’ll be meeting Germans first, but Calvi gave us the code…” He shifted his eyes to the left section of the map. “Once we ‘slip through,’ we’re all set.”

Annie stepped onto the grassy field and sighed with a roll of her eyes, “We know what we’re supposed to do. It’s not as if it hasn’t been drilled into us five million times; over and over and over and o-“

“Annieee,” Reiner interrupted her, and by way of revenge, she quickly kicked a rock into her hand, tossing it at his forehead. He only barely managed to duck away from it, slipping on a muddy section of the field, nearly falling on his face. 

Annie smiled, almost reluctant to do so, and Reiner matched her with a grin of his own. But when she stopped, he stopped, and he immediately felt guilty about being so lighthearted. 

Just because they were outside of the camp didn’t mean they could forget about all their worries. Just because Calvi wasn’t looking directly over their shoulders didn’t mean they weren’t being watched from afar. Just because they were free didn’t mean they were _free._

The entire group fell into an awkward silence as they trekked through the empty terrain. At one time, it would have been bustling, busy, filled with fieldworkers and travelers passing by on their way to Munich. But now it was silent, eerie in its forgotten state. No crops, no livestock, no sun to illuminate the ground before them; everything was grey - a muddy mixture of toned down hues that spoke of nothing but death to come. The Allies were moving forward, and it appeared that all were abandoning their hope. All were expecting the Reich to collapse. 

Unless the Warriors did something about it. And if they did, then they and all their families would be safe. They’d be exalted. They’d be saviors. And they’d all be honorary Germans in their own right. 

Marcel broke the bleak mood that had befallen the group, tossing the remaining apple to Reiner. He grabbed it, just barely - the slickness of the juice nearly causing it to fall out of his hands to the mud below - and moved it towards his mouth, taking a few bites out of the core. Sour, but he couldn’t complain. They were hungry; they always were. 

While he chewed on the insides and spat out a seed, he tilted his head. “How do we know they won’t kill us anyway? The Allies are devils, and they want the Reich completely eradicated at all costs. That includes us.” Reiner lobbed the apple to Bertholdt who easily snatched it out of the air. His hand-eye coordination had always been the best of them. 

“We don’t,” Marcel shrugged, “But as long as we say we have information that will help them defeat the Fatherland, they’ll keep us alive. It should be long enough for us to kill them instead.” 

“You’ve heard the stories though…” Reiner chewed on his lip. “About what they do to German Jews? To German anything? They make us look like- like we’re like them.” He hunched his shoulders, staring at the squishy ground. “They’re the ones that keep making the world hate us. All of us.”

He could feel Annie’s eyes on him, but he didn’t meet her gaze. 

“And that’s exactly why we’re out here. We’ll change their minds, okay?” Marcel reached out and grabbed Reiner’s shoulder, gripping the raggedy fabric as he kept Reiner from stepping forward. “We’ll kill the devils, and we’ll all make it out of this alive.” Reiner turned his face to peer up at Marcel, and Marcel met him with a smile. But it felt like there was something else to it. Something hidden, something false, something that wasn’t quite right. Reiner had to turn away, otherwise he feared he’d believe it. The guilt. 

They continued on into the nearby woods to avoid well-worn paths. Even if their mission was known by Germany’s soldiers on the front, German civilians knew nothing of it. If they got caught, then they’d likely be shot - no, they would be shot. And if there was no gun, then the person would find something to kill them with, because no good German would let escaped prisoners live. Reiner could easily picture a farmer with his pitchfork, or a wife with her kitchen knife. 

A simple stab and all would be over.

Reiner put a hand to his neck as they stepped through the trees, as if he could somehow protect his throat from any unforeseen weapons thrown by Germans in the dark. Allies in the dark. Germany was his friend, he reminded himself. It was the Allies who would destroy them all. 

But if they stuck to the plan, if everything went as it was supposed to, then they wouldn’t have to worry about a thing.

_\/__\/__\/_

It took most of the day to reach the river. They had been expecting it, the dark line trailing across the map, heading up toward Augsburg. But seeing it in person was an entirely different story. It stretched into the distance, a pale blue against the otherwise dreary background, a roaring mass that crossed over rocks and created rapids.

They couldn’t cross over it without a bridge. And if they couldn’t find a bridge, then they’d have to travel south and find a thin section to wade through. But, looking at the water as it was, Reiner sincerely doubted they’d ever be able to find such a thing. Their best bet was a bridge, and he knew they couldn’t approach one that was used often. They needed to remain hidden, unnoticeable, nothing but figures in the backdrop. 

So, they moved south, and thankfully, they found a flat bridge near the municipality of Kissing. It was dangerous there. While not as vast as Augburg, Kissing had a sizable populace, and all of the Warriors were understandably nervous as they made their way around the Auensee lake. They had only seen a few individuals along their journey - most having disappeared as soon as they were spotted (Reiner assumed they were deserters, and for that, he wished he could turn them in to Calvi himself) - but nobody showed up around the lake. 

It caused them to relax, just slightly, so when they started across the bridge above the Lech, none of them noticed how slick the stones were. 

Bertholdt slipped. It was almost comical, the way his right foot slid out from under him, causing him to throw his arms out, pinwheeling them about, trying to regain his balance. He stumbled back, near to the edge of the bridge, and before Reiner could reach out and pull him back in, Annie had moved forward, fist clutching his shirt, holding him up with the fabric alone. 

Bertholdt was saved from the water, but the pack on his back was not. 

The group watched as the bag drifted down the Lech, a quarter of their supplies gone - more than half of their rations. Their few apples bobbed up and down as the rapids took them away, mocking the Warriors with their merriment. 

“Shit,” Annie said. 

Reiner, for once, didn’t complain about the curse.

_\/__\/__\/_

They stopped near Walkertshofen, just outside of the town. They could see the buildings in the distance, as well as the tall spire of a church, but did not make any moves to go closer. Instead, they stayed near the treeline, right next to the rolling fields of farmers who no longer cared.

Reiner gathered as many dry sticks as he could find, searching under the large leaves of maples and condensed branches of pines. Although most were too wet to use, he ended up with a sizable armful, and walked back to their camp. 

Marcel was waiting for him, kicking debris away from their makeshift fire pit. He reached up and grabbed the sticks, setting them underneath the logs, before pulling out some cotton and striking a match. The cotton lit and the rest of the wood soon followed. 

Both of them sat back as they waited for Annie and Bertholdt to return. 

First was Annie, and all it took was a shake of her head for their faces to fall. They only had enough for a single meal each, if they couldn’t find any other means to- 

“I’ve found a farmhouse.” Bertholdt leaned against one of the trees, trying to catch his breath. “It’s on the other side of the ridge, and it looks like it could be abandoned. We might be able to find something there.” 

Marcel got to his feet with a grateful grin. “Nice find.” He shifted his attention to the twins. “I’m assuming you’ll want to go, Bertholdt. You should probably bring along one of us too.” 

“I’ll go!” Reiner immediately stood, walking forward to Bertholdt. 

Annie frowned and looked back at Marcel. “I want to go too.”

Reiner felt insulted at the subtle insinuations of his lack of worth, but didn’t say anything in reply, waiting for Marcel to make the final verdict. All the Warriors did it. Marcel was their leader, and they relied on him for everything. 

“I doubt it’s a task that needs three of us.” Marcel shook his head. “Bring back whatever you can. I’m sure we can make use of it somehow.” 

Reiner nodded and nudged Bertholdt as the two of them turned, heading toward wherever it was he found the place. “Hopefully we can make up for all that lost food now.”

“Mm, yeah.” Bertholdt kicked at the ground as they walked, retracing his path. “I feel bad about it. It could’ve happened to anyone, I guess, but still… If I had kept my balance, or kept a better drip on the bad, or-” 

“It’s fine.” Reiner shrugged. “You’re talking to _me,_ Bertholdt. I’ve messed up and currently mess up all the time, and I’m still alive. I mean, I was chosen for the mission despite all that.” He shook his head. “I don’t think anyone’s gonna be mad about a mix-up from you every once and awhile.”

“It’s still our food. And it’ll become a bigger issue if we don’t find anything at the farmhouse.”

“Well let’s get to it then. Only one way to find out.” They stopped at the ridge, looking at the barn below. “After this, we can go help kill the devils. And then we’ll return to our families as heroes.”

Bertholdt shifted on his feet. “We should check the barn first.”

They walked down the slope and cautiously approached the back of the barn. There were two large doors, but moving them would cause too much noise, and neither of them wanted to scare the animals in there - if there even were any. It would be a much bigger problem if the place wasn’t actually abandoned. Because, if so, they’d be looting. And then they’d have a lot more problems on their hands than simple starvation. 

When they walked around to the other side, they found a door. Bertholdt walked forward and pulled it open, the two of them quietly stepping inside, looking about. 

There were animals, which should have been their first sign that something was wrong. But the Warriors were children; instead of viewing the penned, well-fed animals with wariness, their eyes immediately lit up. Reiner could see chickens, a cow, two goats, and a horse in the back, tossing its head at the visitors.

The luckiest find was on a shelf in the back. A sack of potatoes, a few ears of corn - it would be more enough to last them the rest of their trip. Especially with the three eggs Reiner found when he rummaged around in the chicken coop. 

“This is amazing!” Reiner made his way over to Bertholdt, his eyes on the cow as he considered whether or not milking would be worth it - not that he knew how to do that sort of thing. “I’m surprised looters haven’t come through here yet.” He paused. “I guess we’re looters too then, aren’t we? Even if there’s nobody here, we’re still taking what isn’t ours.” 

“Gonna turn yourself in so Calvi can punish you?” Bertholdt raised an eyebrow. 

Reiner quickly shook his head no. 

It was at this point that they quieted and heard a shifting noise outside. A low shuffle, as if something was being dragged. 

They could’ve blamed it on the wind, or the settling of wood in the barn, but the two were used to being cautious of sudden movements in the night, and quickly lunged to the side of the barn hidden in darkness. 

The doors opened as soon as they crouched down, sticking close together. Sweat was pouring off of Bertholdt, and Reiner’s hands felt clammy and thick. Someone else was there, and it definitely wasn’t one of the Warriors. 

With the door open, the man was illuminated in a bright moonlight gleam. He was tall, broad, someone that could easily have participated in army efforts if the Reich didn’t need farmers to feed their soldiers. He was determined too, pulling something behind him with a yank every few steps he took. The hat hid most of his face, but Reiner could feel the cold tension in the air. 

He was watching something he wasn’t supposed to be. 

It only took a few more steps before the thing was revealed, and the two boys struggled to hold back screams. 

It was a corpse. Apparently freshly dead, blood still trickling from the man’s bashed in head. The farmer had a hand gripped around the deserter’s ankle - he had to be a deserter, the German uniform was obvious - pulling him along to one of the tables in the center of the barn. 

Bertholdt’s skin was slick with perspiration, and he was breathing heavily. Each inhale felt like it would be the one to alert the man of their presence - one more loud exhale and that would be it. Reiner shakily raised his hand, covering Bertholdt’s mouth as they both cowered in the shadows. He did his best to keep his knees from knocking together, to keep his body from shivering and his teeth from grinding against his tongue as he clenched and unclenched his jaw. It was as though his very heartbeat was betraying him, beating out a tattoo in the black silence of the room. 

Moving away from the body, the man looked underneath the table to grab a wooden board and a paint can. He dipped a horsehair brush into the liquid, barely pausing to wait for excess drips to find their way back into the can. It was then that he began to paint on the board. His movements suggested that he was writing, but his strokes were wide and jagged, throwing a few small splatters against the nearby wall. 

When that was done, he took a step back, nodded with a self-satisfied smile, and headed in Reiner and Bertholdt’s direction. 

Reiner shoved himself into Bertholdt’s side as if the two of them could somehow mold into a single inanimate figure, raising his arm so that he could bite his own hand. 

_No noise, no noise, no noise._

He passed without noticing them there. And although their relief was clearly expressed in each of their eyes, they couldn’t exhale. One wrong move and all would be over. 

The farmer reached up to grab some rope from one of the shelves near to them and made his way back to the body, slinging it over his shoulder before he walked outside. 

Reiner and Bertholdt waited in apprehension, fear squeezing their hearts and lungs, forcing them to stay still and stay silent. It was only after a minute - what felt like hours to Reiner - that they removed their hands from their faces and let out a long sigh, each shutting their eyes as they tried to regain their senses. 

Without any words exchanged, the two cautiously stepped outside of their place beside the wall. If there was any time to make a break for it, it was now. The moon shone brightly upon their path, the door was wide open, and they still had all the supplies they needed. 

_They could do it._

Reiner stayed behind as Bertholdt made the first move. His friend hunched over as best he could, tip-toeing over to the door, sticking his head out just slightly. When he saw nothing, he quietly stepped out onto the grass. All was clear, and he motioned Reiner to get moving. 

The door on the opposite side of the barn slammed open. 

Reiner immediately shoved his back against the wall, right where he’d been previously. Bertholdt was out of the farmer’s line of sight, sending Reiner concerned motions. He was only able to wave his hand the slightest bit in return. _Go._

Bertholdt hesitated before moving away from the building - Reiner letting out a small sigh of relief. Thankfully, the farmer was far enough away that he didn’t notice the small shadows shifting about, but it didn’t make the blond Warrior any less terrified. 

If he waited it out, if he waited then perhaps he could leave safely. 

The farmer went back over to the table, closed the paint can, and shifted his attention to the back of the barn. 

_Shit._

Reiner waited as the farmer passed by him, and quickly considered his options. One: leave while he’s distracted. Two: stay still until he’s left the barn. Three: talk to the German, explain the situation, and pray that he’d be willing to help loyal servants of the Reich. The third option was impossible. He knew it, but it didn’t make him any less hopeful. 

He knew he had to leave as soon as possible. Bertholdt, the stupidly loyal friend he was, would try and come back for him in some sort of way - putting himself at risk. So, he went with the first option, holding his breath as he quietly crawled out from the inky darkness. 

He hadn’t been expecting an exclamation from the back; he hadn’t even considered what would happen should the farmer notice the missing crops. 

Freezing up, he hoped, he prayed - to something and nothing at all - that he wouldn’t be noticed. But there was the window, and there he was, away from the blanket of shadows that had concealed him, with bright blond hair that seemed to glow in the light of the faceless moon. 

It was a beacon, and the farmer noticed, his angry shout echoing across the expanse between them.

Reiner ran, stumbling as he got up from the floor, trying to grasp at the open door that led to escape. 

Too late. Something had been thrown at him, the edge of a metallic object lightly cutting his arm as he twisted to the left, trying to avoid a more severe injury. 

There was the door on the opposite side, right in front of him. If he could make it there- 

Noises coming from the farmer were drowned out as his heartbeat moved into his ears, a quick thumping that made the blood rush to his head and his skin to heat up past the comfortable level. He slipped once as he desperately made his way toward the door the farmer had exited from previously, righting himself as he grabbed at the table’s wooden leg. It was then that he could hear the farmer cursing as he looked around for something, the clinking of little metal bits immediately alerting Reiner to the possibility of a _gun._

A few feet away. 

He passed through the doorway as soon as a shot rang out, hitting not him, but the frame right beside his fingers. 

Now, out in the fresh air and the open fields, he tried to figure out his next move. He needed to get back to the trees, he needed to find Bertholdt, he needed to make sure that whatever he did next wouldn’t lead him right back to the farmer and his gun. 

All of his thoughts were interrupted when he spotted two swaying feet suspended in the air. The corpse in his uniform, the rope around his already stiff neck, the tree branch moving in unison with each dancing twist of the man’s body, and then, the sign. 

_Plünderer werden erschossen_

Looters will be shot. 

If he wasn’t being chased down at that very moment, Reiner would’ve laughed at the irony. 

“Reiner!” A shout, Bertholdt standing near the farmhouse, holding a brick as if he had been planning to hit the farmer over the head with it. 

Shaking himself out, he quickly sprinted toward his friend, just managing to avoid the second shot - it ripped through the leg of the body instead, blood splattering without a single sound of protest. Just the eerie silence of violence without reply. 

The two boys, once together, took off for the treeline, climbing up the hill as fast as they possibly could. They were young, they were small, they were undeniably inexperienced when it came to the ways of the world, but they had years of military training that the farmer couldn’t match. 

Bertholdt and Reiner didn’t look behind themselves as they ran, and they didn’t stop until they saw the smoke of their fire in the distance. 

Both leaned over, breathing heavily. Bertholdt still had the brick clutched in one hand and the sack of potatoes in the other; Reiner checked his own pockets. Two of the eggs had been crushed, which only left them one. 

“At least…. we have… some food.” Reiner pulled at his clothing, as if it was choking him. 

Bertholdt threw his head back, exhaling slowly. “Yeah…

They waited for a few moments more and Reiner took that opportunity to look toward his arm. Finally, the pain was catching up with him, although it was nothing compared to what he experienced at the camp. In truth, it was just a thin line of red. As long as it scabbed over within the next few days, and didn’t show any signs of infections, it was nothing to be concerned about. 

What had been thrown at him anyway? A trowel? 

“How’s that?” Bertholdt nodded to the cut, ever observant. 

“It’s fine.” He pinched at the skin to watch the blood flow before nodding toward the fire. “We need to get back, tell them to put out the fire.” 

“You think the farmer will bother looking for us?”

Reiner bit his lip. “No, not really. But I don’t want to test it.” 

It took another minute before they reached the other Warriors. When they did, Marcel immediately stood, smiling at the two, noticing the bag in Bertholdt’s hand. Annie, on the other hand, stayed sitting, but her eyes spoke of quiet concern. 

“What did you find?” Bertholdt handed the bag over to their group leader, and he rummaged around. “Oh! This is great. It should replace everything we lost and then some.” 

They all sat down around the fire, and it was at that point that Marcel spotted Reiner’s arm. His face fell, his eyes grew hooded as he looked down, and he said nothing. Reiner paused in confusion, wondering if he wanted the full story. “We ran into a bit of trouble. Turns out it wasn’t abandoned, but it’s alright. When I tell Calvi about it, I’m sure he’ll be fine reimbursing-”

“I’m sorry.”

“What?”

Marcel looked up, tears in his eyes. Tears. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry Reiner, I-”

Reiner stared at him, eyes wide as he watched the usually calm and collected Marcel start to break down. 

“I… You aren’t supposed to be here! I just wanted to protect my brother and I- I criticized him while I talked you up. I wanted to influence their decision, but now-” He shook his head, rubbing at his eyes. “You weren’t chosen. You should be with your family and…”

Reiner couldn’t hear the rest of his words. They ran through his mind like a roaring stream - there, but indecipherable. “Huh?”

Porco had been right. Porco had been right, and Reiner was never supposed to be there. Everything he had been working towards, everything he had been trying to do for his family, for Germany, he wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t good enough for Calvi, he wasn’t good enough for the Warriors, he wasn’t good enough for his father. Everything around him was built on lies. 

_He wasn’t the hero of the story._

He stared, blankly, at the flickering flames. He knew Bertholdt and Annie were watching him, but he didn’t react. He didn’t cry, he didn’t shout, he merely stood and stomped out the fire, sending sparks sailing into the air. 

In that darkness, hearing Marcel’s guilt, Reiner silently mumbled, “Why are you apologizing?”

Nobody replied.

_\/__\/__\/_

They began in the direction of Ulm as soon as they packed up their supplies. Marcel hadn’t spoken, and neither had Reiner - the tension nearly palpable.

Reiner cared very little about Marcel’s part in making him a Warrior, but Marcel seemed to think he did, cautiously throwing him a glance every few steps. All Reiner cared about was his uselessness. His worthlessness. Nothing else mattered. 

Their pace was slower than before. Although they had been trained to be able to walk an entire day through, they were exhausted after day one, and the gloom that had fallen about the only two that willingly spoke resulted in a less than welcoming environment. 

Bertholdt had nearly said something to Reiner, but upon seeing his friend’s blank expression, decided against it. 

They didn’t run into any obstacles, not until the sun began to set and they approached another grove of trees. 

Before entering, Marcel stopped, turning to Reiner. “Reiner, please, say something at least.”

As if awoken from a deep dream, Reiner blinked and looked up at the boy. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been quiet the entire time. You usually have something to say, about the Allied devils or the mission or, anything really.” Marcel fiddled with his fingers as the sky grew dark around them, no moon to show the way. “I- I don’t regret saving Porco, but I’m sorry you had to take his place.” 

Reiner scuffed at the ground with his boot, beginning to grin. It felt fake, his mouth twisting up to points that felt unnatural. It wasn’t because he was angry at Marcel, but because he couldn’t bring himself to stop thinking about the real truth of the matter. That he hadn’t earned his position due to his own merit. Didn’t Marcel get that? “It’s okay. I said it last night, right? You don’t have to apologize to me.”

Marcel hesitated, looking into his eyes, before deciding he wasn’t going to get any other answers out of the blond. “Okay… Okay.” He moved over to slap Reiner on the shoulder. “We’re good then?”

“We were never bad to begin with,” Reiner said. And then, a real grin followed. A bright, open-mouthed grin. If he couldn’t earn it in training, then he could prove himself on the mission, couldn’t he? He could do it with them, with all of the Warriors. It was okay. They’d make it out. They’d be just fine. They’d all return as saviors of the Reich and- 

BANG. 

Marcel’s smiling face exploded. 

Reiner stood still as he became drenched in his friend’s blood. His hair was red, his face was red, his mouth was red, his clothes were red. He tasted iron on his tongue and heard nothing as his ears screamed. 

The blond caught the corpse in his arms, dropping to the muddy ground as Marcel covered him. 

BANG. 

Another shot; it hit Marcel’s back, and all went silent. 

It was then that Reiner finally reacted. It was then that he registered all that was around him. The swaying grass, the moonless night, the dripping blood, the body atop him that no longer _looked right._

He screamed and screamed and screamed, jolting back, trying to _get it off him._

_Get off, get off, GET OFF._

But the corpse didn’t reply, and neither did the other Warriors who stood around them, their faces filled with something indescribable. 

Horror. Perhaps that’s what it was. 

But they weren’t looking down at Marcel, they were looking forward, toward the trees. Toward the two approaching figures with guns in their hands and helmets on their heads. 

Reiner couldn’t see anything but Marcel, and Marcel saw nothing. 

He was dead. 

He was _dead._

Reiner didn’t move when Annie and Bertholdt held their hands up, Reiner didn’t move when he heard English words being exchanged by the two that had approached - ‘You killed a child!’ ‘I heard German!’ - Reiner didn’t move when Marcel’s body was dragged off of him. 

He only moved when they asked him some question, some question he registered, but didn’t try to understand. 

“You killed him,” he said, his English shaky, his eyes red. 

When he looked up, he looked into the faces of devils.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Titan deaths are horrific, but I find human violence to be so much worse. Especially considering these four are _children_ caught up in a conflict they have no part in.
> 
> I based the first section off of a scene in the German film 'The Captain.' I definitely suggest watching it, but be warned, it's mature and not for the faint of heart (a German deserter near the end of WWII finds a captain uniform and poses as an SS officer - he begins to like the taste of power, and you watch his gradual descent). It's been awhile since I last saw it - I wanted to make the sign match whatever was in the film - but I don't have the money to rent it again, so it's just a light reference. 
> 
> Two more characters reveal themselves, wonder who they are? 
> 
> **IMPORTANT NOTE:** This will be the last chapter where a single language is shown (All chapters previously, they spoke German, but I wrote it in English). English will be the main language from here on out, but there will be side conversations in German. If you have a preference in how this is displayed, please let me know:  
>  _"Should German look like this?"_  
>  [Or should it look like this?]  
> The second option is easier for me (html formatting), but I understand if you guys prefer one or the other. You can add it in a comment here or say something to me through my [ Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/kyriemryn/) or [Tumblr](https://kyriemryn.tumblr.com). 
> 
> And yes, I spent a lot of time looking over a map. Even found the exact place the farmhouse would be lmao


	7. Lost Among the Enemy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Note:** From here on out, [This means characters are speaking German.] Anything in quotes will be English.

“So, you know English?” The blond man, Hannes, as the foursome-turned-trio had learned, poked at his food absentmindedly. He was staring at Reiner, but Reiner didn’t meet his eyes, preferring the appearance of the ground. “It’s alright if you don’t want to talk. Take your time, okay? What happened was… inexcusable, but we’re here to help you.”

The younger man beside him scoffed, but not without looking away, eyes hooded, shadows dancing across his face. The group knew his name was Ymir, but that was only thanks to Hannes. He had barely spoken since they were led back to camp, and whenever he did, it usually came with a string of curses that Reiner only slightly understood. 

Hannes kicked his partner’s boot, mouth drawn out in a thin line, eyebrows raised, before turning back to the silent children. “If you explain who you are and how you ended up here, I’m sure we can lead you back to your families. How does that sound?” 

Bertholdt didn’t speak or register the words - at least, he pretended not to - but Annie nodded. It made sense that she would have some knowledge of the English language if her brother could speak it semi-fluently. There were a few terms and phrases that the Germans didn’t bother instructing him in; whatever Ymir was saying fell under that umbrella. 

“Okay.” His German accent was extremely apparent, and Hannes had to lean forward - as if that could somehow help him make out the word. 

The blond American paused for a few moments, but when Reiner didn’t continue, he rubbed at his chin. “How about we go first? Ymir?” 

Ymir gritted his teeth before, reluctantly, meeting the eyes of the staring trio. “I’m nobody important. Deserted the German army and ended up here, helping the damn Allies.” 

Hannes waited, and Ymir sighed. “I’m the one that shot your friend, and I’m… I’m sorry about that, okay? I didn’t know he was a fucking kid, I didn’t-“ He scratched at his head, shaking it back and forth. “Doesn't matter a goddamn anyway. What’s done is done.”

Reiner raised his head, eyes widening as soon as he registered the soldier’s words, before his face fell again. 

This was it then. This was where he turned his back on everything he knew and began his mission. For Germany, for his father, for his family, and now, for Marcel, who had died for no other reason than the fact that he was standing in front of Reiner when it happened. 

It could have so easily been him instead. 

God, what was he going to tell Porco? He had promised, and now- 

Now Marcel was gone. No more leader. Just a ragtag group of children that shouldered the weight of the Reich’s survival. None of them knew what to do now that he was gone. They had their directives. They had the plan memorized. They had the trust of each other. But they didn’t have someone who was willing to not only carry the burden of the mission, but to carry the burden of being its sole leader as well. 

_I’ll be Marcel._

It was a quiet thought, almost traitorous in the way it snuck into his mind, whispering about the glory to come to him should he just reach out and grab it. 

_If we need Marcel…_

He tried to ignore it, at first. But it poked and prodded incessantly. It urged him to speak, to reply, to take up a personality other than himself. 

_Then I’ll be Marcel._

“You are here to free Germany?” He met Ymir’s eyes, watching as the young man flinched back just slightly. 

Hannes, to his right, nodded. “It’s only a matter of time now.” 

Reiner inclined his head and began eating his food, ignoring Bertholdt’s concerned glance and Annie’s questioning frown. They could talk later. If there was a German deserter with the Americans, who knew what he’d be able to pick up if they slipped up somewhere. 

Hannes waited for another moment, as if expecting Reiner to suddenly turn and start shouting at Ymir for what he had done, but it didn’t happen, so he hesitantly continued with his own introduction. “You already know my name. I’m from the United States. 103rd infantry division, the 411th infantry regiment specifically… Not that you know what that is.” He shook his head, dismissing his thoughts. “We were separated awhile back, me and a few other fellows. We picked him up on the way.” He jerked his thumb toward Ymir. “And some kids, like you three.”

Annie and Reiner both tilted their heads at that, and then, quickly realizing he needed to keep up with appearances, Reiner turned to Bertholdt. [He’s saying he’s an American. Got split up from his division. And there are… kids with him?]

Reiner turned to Hannes for confirmation, but it was Ymir that spoke up - the only one of the two that could speak German. [Found the tiny bastards while we were lost in the middle of nowhere. Just our luck, yeah? We’ll be starting a fucking orphanage at this rate.]

“Where are they?” Reiner decided to ignore Ymir’s comments, looking toward the devil that clearly had German ancestry. A traitor to his own. Both of them were - one an American Aryan, the other a German that had turned his back on his country. It disgusted him, but he couldn’t show it. He couldn’t say a word. 

“Back in the weald. We were doing scouting and…” Hannes’s voice dropped off. 

The subject none of them wanted to touch on. Not really. Even Ymir, who had said his words so plainly, was facing the other direction. Perhaps to show he didn’t care. Perhaps to show he did. 

When the men had first come out of the trees, they were holding tightly onto their guns, cautious of the two figures that were still standing. They drew closer and quickly realized their mistake. The individuals they shot at were much too small, much too scared, and much too young. 

Hannes immediately started shouting at his fellow soldier, the one who had reacted far too quickly. Ymir tried to defend himself, but quit speaking as soon as he saw the dripping body and the boy drenched in blood underneath it. 

They were children. All of them. 

Hannes spoke to those still alive; Ymir stared at the corpse. Reiner looked at them both, hatred in his heart and anger in his eyes. He tried to tamp it down, stomp on his feelings and drown them out. The Allied devils were there, and he had a mission to complete. 

But it was hard. It was hard when he only had to turn to the side to see Marcel’s lifeless eyes. It was hard when he was covered in red, nose inhaling iron, and nothing but. It was hard when he searched Marcel’s clothing, finding a picture of his family and a letter from his father. It was hard when the blond devil pretended to care, eyes filled with unshed sorrow. It was hard when the brown-haired devil didn’t react at all as he pulled the body away to bury it. 

‘Did you care at all when you shot him?’ 

Reiner didn’t ask. He knew Ymir wouldn’t answer. 

A devil through and through. 

Hannes’s voice brought him back to the present, a stumbling mess of words that did its best to keep from mentioning that. “There are two boys and a girl. Maybe slightly younger than you. We also have a few more from our regiment and happened to pick up a few civvies on the way. Said they were from…” Hannes paused. 

“France.” Ymir kept poking at his food. 

“Right.” Hannes shook his head. “They can speak English perfectly well. Sometimes it’s hard to remember.” 

“Real fucking weird if you ask me. Bet they had some sort of dealings with the military.” 

“Like you?”

“Like me.” 

Hannes met Reiner’s eyes again. “You probably hate us, and that’s fine, but please, let us help you.” The fire crackled between the two groups. “Are you lost? Do you have a family? Do-?”

“They are dead.” Reiner paused, inhaled, and straightened his back. _Marcel, Marcel, Marcel._ “They died long ago. It is okay.”

Both Hannes and Ymir grew quiet at that, the latter’s face becoming tense. 

“I am Reiner.” He gestured to himself. “That is my twin sister, Annie.” He pointed at her. “And that is my friend, Bertholdt.” He moved his finger to the tallest of the trio. “We came from a camp. Our parents died early, but they were teaching us English before it happened.” He didn’t know how his English was faring as he spoke it, but they seemed to understand, so he continued on. “Father was a…” He didn’t know the right word for it, so he paused. 

[Fuck. Just speak German, I’ll translate.] Ymir interrupted. 

[He was a government official. He never talked about his job, but he worked with English-speaking countries.] Reiner scratched at his head. They had planned out what to say earlier, but that was with Marcel, and now he had a sister to fit into the story. [He wanted us to pick up on the language so that we could follow in his footsteps when we were old enough.]

[Your sister too?] Ymir’s mouth twisted downwards. [That doesn’t make sense.]

Reiner blushed in embarrassment. Annie spoke up for him. [I asked Reiner to teach me. He did, but he never told father. We would’ve both been in trouble.]

While their conversations were going on, Hannes had leaned back, eyes wide. “Stop the German for a second.” He ran a hand through his closely-cropped hair. “You said _camp?”_

Reiner shifted. “Yes. A camp. You have heard of them?” 

“One of the…?” Hannes dropped off again. 

[We’re Jews, all three of us], Reiner looked at Ymir, watching as he translated all of it into English, [Father was contacting the Allies illegally, Bertholdt’s father was helping, and when they were discovered, we were sent to a concentration camp.] He played with his fingers. [I don’t remember its name though. We were hidden away most of the time, and people didn’t like to share things with us.]

Ymir squinted, but didn’t say a word. 

[I think if the Nazis cared enough to look for us, they would’ve slit our throats and let us bleed out. They don’t like kids. We’re useless to them.] A lie. [There was this one English prisoner that kept us safe though.]

Upon translation, Hannes leaned forward. “What was the prisoner’s name?”

Reiner quickly blurted out, “Eren Kruger.” It was the first name that came to his mind, and he realized his mistake when the two soldiers exchanged glances. 

While he thought they would focus on the name’s very German origins, Hannes surprised him with what he said next. “That’s… interesting.” He didn’t explain what he meant. 

[How did you escape then?]

[The Nazis came into the barracks without warning, ordering everyone out, beating the prisoners that weren’t fast enough.] That part was true, but it had never been for a specific reason. It was daily. The Warriors themselves had experienced that same treatment. [And we were dragged out with them.]

At Ymir’s gaze, the look of calculation and thought deep within, Reiner knew he wasn’t showing enough emotion. It was as though he was reciting it, which wasn’t inaccurate. 

So he thought of Marcel. 

And he was able to cry. 

[And… they took us to those trains. The trains that never come back with anyone.] He rubbed his nose, the skin turning a bright red. [They put us all in there, and they stopped… they stopped during the trip, in the middle of nowhere, and they began shooting.]

He paused, as though he couldn’t continue, and Bertholdt took that as his chance to step in. [The shots weren’t just coming from the soldiers.]

Reiner nodded, [A kapo had gotten his hands on a gun.]

[Eren Kurger], Annie mumbled. 

[He helped us escape, and then he was _killed._ ] The group had never truly interacted with Eren Kruger, but they trusted Zeke, and Zeke said he was a good man. [We had made it to the tree line and hid and we heard him shouting and-]

Ymir stopped his translation as soon as Hannes got up from his seat. “It’s alright. You don’t have to continue.” 

The expanse between the two groups seemed great, but Hannes crossed it in the matter of seconds, reaching out with his hand to grasp onto Reiner’s shoulder. The Warrior nearly flinched away, but controlled himself. _Marcel._ Instead, he dipped his head and wiped away his tears, pretending to welcome the devil’s touch. There might have been some part of him that found it comforting, but it was locked deep inside himself. He no longer found contact to be soothing; it always sent panic shooting through his body. 

“Thank you,” he said quietly. 

“Don’t thank me. You shouldn’t have had to deal with this- any of this- we-” Hannes searched for the right words, but found nothing. “We’ll liberate those camps. We’ll save you all, okay?”

Save them? Save them from what? The Allied devils were the threat. They’d share false promises, manipulate their prey, and eventually do far worse to all the degenerates of the world, far worse than Germany. They’d pick each of them apart, piece by piece, and see what they really looked like inside - Hannes was lying, and Ymir was a traitor. 

“Okay.” 

Hannes moved back, but not far. Something caught his eye. 

_Them._

For the first time, he truly saw the children as they were. He saw the pale skin of the twins, unhealthy in their pallor. He saw their loosely fitting clothes, ragged and worn. He saw their thinness, abnormally skeletal. He saw the marks on their arms and legs; he didn’t want to know what else was below the fabric that did little for protection. 

“I’m so sorry.”

Reiner didn’t know what he meant, so he didn’t bother replying.

_\/__\/__\/_

All of the children had been uncomfortable that evening, sleeping next to the men responsible for their friend’s death, but the promise of safety for their families kept them going. At the very least, the soldiers didn’t appear to want to kill them. Not yet. They hadn’t been shot during the night, nor when they were washing themselves in a nearby creek, which would’ve been the best time to do it.

Still, Reiner was yawning as they walked deeper into the weald. He had been tossing and turning the entire time, dreams filled with images of violence and men with horns and devilish grins. Marcel was there too - pink face turning ashen as life faded from his eyes. Reiner thought he had heard him speak, but the meaning of those words was lost to him as soon as he awoke and headed into the enemy lair. 

“Once we figure out how to get out of here without being killed by Nazis,” Hannes began, brushing past clinging branches, “We’ll take you to our superiors. They’ll know what to do.”

Reiner flinched at that. Was that how they were going to die? He needed to make sure the Americans knew they had _information_ that could help. 

“Do you have any distant relatives?” 

“No,” Even if he did, he wouldn’t have told him. That would put them in danger, and he wasn’t going to risk that again. 

“Hannes, get your head out of your ass,” Ymir said, the last in the line of marching figures. “There have been a whole bunch of orphans everywhere since you started dropping bombs. It isn’t new. We can’t keep picking them up, we can’t keep promising things that’ll never happen, and we definitely can’t go out of our way to find their fucking _families.”_

“Like we had much of a choice.” Hannes hissed, knuckled white as he clenched his fists. “You killed one of them.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that you would’ve brought them along anyway,” Ymir was no longer meeting Hannes’s eyes. 

The blond soldier scoffed and turned away. “We’ll talk later.” 

The air was thick. Perhaps due to the recent rainfall, perhaps due to the increasingly strained interactions between the two soldiers. The Warriors were only hightening it, awkwardly saying nothing, awkwardly staying apart. They hadn’t spoken to one another since Marcel’s death, and they weren’t likely to do so again until they made it to wherever the other camp was. 

Reiner distantly wondered what type of people would be there. It was clearly a large group. Not as big as a normal regiment, but one that had picked up many different individuals along their path through enemy territory. It wasn’t the best strategy, it wasn’t even a good one, but it did mean that the Warriors could kill more Allies. Nothing pleased Reiner more than the idea of that. 

He knew his dad would _have_ to be proud of him then.

Another two miles, with a few pauses for deliberations between the two soldiers, and they made it to a clearing. Hannes told them to wait there for a while, and after a few minutes, as the adults left to check on the rest of their ragtag collection of the desperate and the lost, Reiner turned to Bertholdt and Annie. 

They spoke without words, at first. Having spent years together - living and breathing the same air, experiencing the same hardships, dealing with the same burdens - it took very little for them to exchange all their feelings with a single glance. Eyes were the window to the soul, and for the three Warriors who had just lost Marcel, it had never been more true. 

Reiner broke the silence, [We know what we have to do.] 

[And _how exactly_ do you think we should do it without Marcel?] Annie jumped in. 

[He was… he was our best shot at this.] Bertholdt scuffed at the ground with his foot, tossing dirt and bits of grass into the air. 

[Well what else would you have us do? Go back?] Reiner scoffed at the idea, but quickly stopped when he saw Bertholdt and Annie’s expressions. [What? Really?]

[We’ve _already_ lost our fourth member. Calvi won’t be happy with us, but if we return now and pick up Pieck or Porco-] Annie began but was cut off. 

[Have you thought for even a second, Annie? Have you thought about what will happen to us when we come back?] Reiner ran a shaky hand through his hair. [They’ll kill us. They’ll kill us for failing our mission. And they’ll kill Mom, Auntie, and Gabi too.]

[You don’t know that!] Annie shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at him. [You can’t possibly know that will happen!] 

Reiner took a step forward, his own voice rising. [What else would they do!?]

[I-] Annie paused and moved backwards, one small step at a time, until her back hit a tree and she slid down to the ground. Silence followed before she began to whisper. [I-I just want to go home]. 

Reiner watched Bertholdt cross the space between them to sit on her left side, and he followed soon after, sitting to her right. [I know… Annie, I know.] He exhaled sharply, pressing his palms against his eyes. [I’ll be Marcel. I’ll be the Marcel we’ll need, and we’ll all get to go back. Alive.]

[You remember your promise?] She turned to look at him, and he nodded. 

[Yeah. Yeah I do.]

_\/__\/__\/_

Hannes returned shortly after, motioning them to get up and head into the clearing, saying, “We haven’t told them anything about your situation, but they do know you’re German. It’s your choice whether you want to share more or not.”

They followed him with little reluctance, pushing past the bushes and avoiding the thistles. Reiner was in front, but when he saw the group in front of him, he immediately stopped and held up the line. 

There were too many of them. Far too many, far too close. God, what was he supposed to do? If he felt threatened by such a measly amount, how was he supposed to continue the mission and face full regiments of them? How had he ever thought-?

No. He took a deep breath and pushed those thoughts out of his mind. He wasn’t about to give up. He wasn’t going to let fourteen devils scare him, especially since three were tiny children, all looking at him with differing degrees of curiosity upon their faces. 

The four ‘civvies,’ as they had been called, were on the right side of the camp, talking amongst themselves, one of which seemed particularly annoyed - a man. The five American soldiers were to the left, unconcerned with the new arrivals. The three in the middle, they had to be the kids. 

Two had a Germanic appearance, one of which seemed to be a full-blooded Aryan. That made Reiner squeamish, but he moved on, shifting his eyes to the third figure. A girl, dark hair, pale skin, and- He wondered how he should react to that. Was she a Jap? Was she one of those Chinamen? If she was Japanese, then maybe- 

No, he couldn’t trust that. Traitors were everywhere, and kids were certainly among them. 

Hannes stretched out one of his arms, gesturing to each of them in turn. “Reiner, Annie, Bertholdt, meet everyone.”

A few of the devils shifted on their feet to give them a small wave, a few were more curious, stepping closer, ever so slightly. The civvies were among the latter type, all watching the children carefully. 

It was the child trio that actually moved, getting up from their spot to greet the newcomers. 

“Hi!” One was exuberant and loud. The German-like boy that had brown hair. “I’m Eren.” He gestured to himself and went down the line. “That’s Armin, and over there’s Mikasa! What are you here for? Why’d Hannes find you? Are you-?” He paused as his mind finally caught up with his mouth. “Can you understand English?”

Reiner shook the boy’s outstretched hand into his own, shaking it briefly before smiling. _Marcel._ “I can. My sister can understand some of it. Bertholdt cannot, but I can… translate.” He trailed off before he was able to find the right word. 

“That’s good,” Eren’s face fell, slightly, as he stepped back. “So you’re Germans, right?”

Reiner watched the boy carefully, the way he hesitated, the way his body suddenly closed off, the way his muscles tensed. It was different, different from his initial words. Perhaps he had only just realized where they were and who the children were likely to be. 

“Barely.” Reiner shifted on his feet. “We are Jews. We spent most of our time outside of Germany, but came back at the wrong time.”

“Oh,” Eren loosened up with a small smile. “I’m guessing you were on the run, like us?” 

Reiner scratched the back of his neck with a chuckle, “You could say that.” 

“Things are nice here,” A small voice popped in - Armin. “I mean. The world isn’t. But Hannes is making it better.”

“Is he helping you find your relatives too, then?” Reiner felt uncomfortable with the idea of sharing his initial story, and considering the soldier had given him the option to… make it easier on them, he took it. He didn’t want to go through the orphan talk. 

“Yeah,” Eren, this time. “Armin’s grandpa is somewhere around here, we think. Mikasa’s with me, and my dad… We’re currently looking for him.”

Reiner nodded to Annie and Bertholdt, all three of them moving to sit down across from the other trio. “Do you have clues?”

“Clues as to where he is? Yes.” Eren looked over to Hannes. “We have a family friend, and I think my dad might have gone there to visit him before-” He cut himself off, pausing before continuing on. “Anyway, Hannes said he’ll be on the lookout.”

“That is good.” Reiner nodded and then moved to Bertholdt to summarize what Eren shared - not that it was needed in the slightest. After he finished, he began speaking in English again. “Why are you both able to speak English?” He hadn’t yet heard Mikasa, so he didn’t count her in the group. “You have a…” 

“It’s a French accent,” Annie said, already following Reiner’s train of thought. 

“Yes, that.”

Armin jumped in, his bright blue eyes aglow. “My dad was an English professor at a nearby college. I was interested, so I took part in his lessons.” His face lost a bit of its brightness for only a second, but he quickly began smiling again. “He said I was better than some of his adult students.”

Reiner could believe it, with the way Armin’s words flowed, but didn’t say any- no, he should say something. If he was going to be Marcel, then he had to be him through and through. “It sounds like it. Your English is clear.” He grinned and looked to Eren, tilting his head. “You?”

“My dad’s a doctor. He’s always wanted to be able to understand all of his patients, and I guess he wanted me to be able to as well.” Eren shrugged and then poked at Mikasa’s scarf, a red thing wrapped around her neck. “She usually just speaks French.”

“Oh.” Reiner fiddled with his sleeve. “Can she understand what we are saying?”

“Yes,” Eren replied, but didn’t say anything more, shifting to the side to pull out some pans. “Here. Take these. We’ll be having breakfast soon.”

“You get breakfast?” Reiner couldn’t help asking. He was able to get breakfast during the first year of his time at the camp, but the meals soon decreased to two, and then the size of the meals lessened, and soon he was only eating the minimum amount to keep him healthy enough to train. 

Eren grinned. “Yep! Pretty good deal, huh? But it’s only because everyone helps out.”

Reiner was beginning to feel confused, confused about all of it. “Then… how do you move? Do you not need to find your family? The soldiers have to fight the Germans, right?” It wasn’t all he was confused about, but he didn’t dare think about the second factor. It was treasonous, dangerous, and he knew merely opening himself up to the thought would spell trouble. 

“We’ve been here for a week,” Armin tapped at the pan in his lap, Mikasa leaning forward, watching the interactions. “The weald offers cover as Hannes tries to figure out how to meet up with his division without running into Nazis.” His mouth twisted downwards. “We’re kinda in a tight spot. If we go north to the line, then we’ll be killed by enemy forces near the Rhine. If we go further south or east, then we just get deeper into enemy territory.” 

“That makes sense.” Hannes came by, handing a bit of bread to each of them, cocking his head quizzically as if asking the Warriors if they were okay speaking to the other children. Reiner nodded. It wasn’t like he had much of a choice. None of them did. 

“If you’re familiar with German territory, you may actually be able to help us,” Armin said, his voice bright and hopeful. 

“Maybe if you had a map, but I do not remember everything a-” 

Mikasa suddenly mumbled something in French to Armin, and he chuckled briefly, shaking his head. “I- Reiner, do you know how to use contractions?” 

“Hm?”

“Contractions, like…” Armin paused and rummaged around behind the log he was sitting on, pulling out a small book and a thin piece of charcoal. His hand was already smudged as he opened to one of the back pages, scribbling down a few words. When he was done, he held it up to the other boy. “See? With the apostrophe?”

_They’re. Can’t. Don’t. We’re. Isn’t. Didn’t._

Reiner furrowed his brows, considering. “I think I may have learned about them, but they did not- didn’t stick.”

“Do you want to learn more?”

Reiner looked over to Annie and Bertholdt, briefly pausing, feeling _something,_ before turning back to Armin with a wide smile. “Yeah. I think I would like that.”

_\/__\/__\/_

They had spent most of the morning going over Armin’s scribbled words. Annie and Bertholdt mainly spoke to one another in German, something none of the other three children knew, which made it easier to talk about matters that were less safe. They still had to be on their guard, however, due to Ymir.

The soldier was a constant presence. Not always close to them, but certainly near. One time, he had jumped into their conversation, smirking as he interacted with the French trio. It threw Reiner off, the way he spoke to them. While he initially believed that Ymir was heartless, especially when it came to those younger than him, it didn’t seem to be the entire truth. There was something else there, something Ymir didn’t want others to see, and Reiner wasn’t too sure he wanted to see it either. 

He didn’t want to see anything human. 

When lunch came around, Reiner searched through their bags. It would be strange if they held onto any of their food as the other soldiers went out to hunt. And then, finally, he spotted it. 

Hannes came around and paused as Reiner held out a hand, his fingers splayed out to stop him. “I have something that you can use for l-”

He bit his tongue to keep from startling at what he brought out. The potatoes were fine. They were fine, but they were stained red, and upon seeing it, Reiner felt like throwing up. He dropped it back into the bag and tied it up. “Nevermind.”

Hannes didn’t say anything in reply, and Reiner was thankful for it. Instead, he placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder, and for once, Reiner didn’t flinch away. He didn’t know why, he didn’t feel comfortable with it there, but he still didn’t move. Something in him told him to stay; he listened. 

“Do you want to come look at a map with me?” Hannes asked. 

“Yeah, I do,” Reiner replied. 

Right. They were going to be leading the Allies through Nazi territory. Luck was on the Warriors’ side; forcing the enemy into a trap had never been easier.

_\/__\/__\/_

When dinner came around, Reiner moved to join the other children, sitting down beside Annie, across from the Japanese girl - Mikasa, wasn’t it?

“We’re supposed to collect wood for the fires,” Eren spoke up, standing up as soon as Reiner had settled. “You guys can join us. We usually split up and go solo, but we can do pairs instead.” 

Reiner translated this to Bertholdt, and, when he saw that Ymir was on the far side of the camp, added in a few questions. [Who do you want to go with?]

[I should go with Armin. He may share more if he doesn’t think I understand.] Bertholdt pulled on one of his sleeves, blinking slowly. 

[Then I’ll go with Eren.] Annie said, standing up. 

Reiner nodded. Even if none of the other children had any helpful information, it was important to stay on guard. Anything could be helpful: troop movements, the current status of France, the likelihood of the Reich winning. Not that Reiner doubted them - they’d win no matter what was thrown their way. 

[Then I’m with Mikasa.] Reiner looked back to Eren and nodded, “Alright.”

Reiner pushed off of the log and stood beside Mikasa, waiting for her to say something, at least do something, but nothing happened. 

“Hey?” The blond hesitantly spoke up, and it was only then that she finally seemed to respond, glancing up at him with a straight face before taking off into the forest beside them. He stared for only a second before following after her. “Hey! Slow down.”

She didn’t. 

By the time he caught up, they were deep in the shadows of the weald. Trees grew on either side, high into the air, fighting one another for their right to the sun. Some failed, great oaks having collapsed, sending fragmented, rotting wood, everywhere on the dense floor of the forest. The foliage was thick, and Reiner still struggled to see where the lithe girl stalked off to. But there, she was right there, and he placed a light hand on her shoulder. “Just…” He took a deep breath. “Wait…” 

Mikasa froze at his touch, growing tense. He removed his hand soon after, realizing very quickly how uncomfortable she was, and instead focused on shaking out his clothes, displacing the leaves that had caught onto the itchy threads. “Usually I don’t have trouble keeping up, but you were jogging like something was chasing you.”

She stared at him, her eyes a dark grey, nearly black in the dim light. “Ah, I guess that something could be me.” She didn’t give him a yes or a no, but he knew he was right. “Look, you don’t have to talk or anything. I am- I’m just here to help you grab wood, okay?” 

Mikasa paused, looking into the weald, before tilting her head, as if that was some sort of sign of acceptance. Even if it wasn’t, he took it as such. “I can talk for the both of us anyway.” She seemed to twist her nose up at that. 

Reiner moved to the right and began to pick up a few logs that looked dry enough to catch. Mikasa stood, watching him, and when he righted himself and looked at her in confusion, she tilted her head, holding out her arms. “Oh? You want these?” 

“Oui.” That was French, and Reiner knew it to mean ‘yes,’ but he still blinked at the sudden sound of her voice. 

“And she talks.” Mikasa firmly shut her mouth in reply, waiting for the wood. 

He dropped it in her arms and began picking up his own again, but there she stood, waiting for more. “What, that isn’t enough?” At her lack of reply, he moved forward and began to add more. And more. And more. And more. 

When the stack towered a solid foot higher than her, he began to find it ridiculous. “There is- There’s no way the camp needs all of that.” 

She shrugged with very little effort and gestured to him to pick up his own logs. He didn’t want to. He’d rather split Mikasa’s stack so that they both looked like they did their fair share, but it was clear the Japanese girl wasn’t budging, and he was just going to have to be comfortable with the idea of coming in second. A new Porco to beat - although, thankfully, this girl seemed less inclined to bully him any chance she could. 

When he finished, they began their trek back, and he began to talk. If he wanted to get close to them, to convince them to follow his directives, to make sure they trusted him, then he’d have to be as friendly as possible. He’d begin with her. She’d be a challenge, as closed off and quiet as she was, but it helped that he didn’t need to worry about any difficult replies to what he shared. 

“I doubt you want to talk about your past.” He shifted a piece of wood to the right, trying to keep it from digging into his skin, “But what’s your connection to Eren?” No, open-ended questions wouldn’t work. “Is he your brother?” That didn’t seem possible, but he asked it all the same. 

She shook her head - no. 

“Is he a friend?” 

She tilted her head back and forth - he figured it was an in-between. 

“So, closer than a friend, but not siblings. Were you brought into his family?”

She nodded - yes. 

Reiner smiled, satisfied at his own deductions. “Can you speak English? At all?”

She didn’t move at that. Something she didn’t want to disclose. 

“Et tu?” Reiner looked over to her as she spoke, having moved all of the logs into one hand so she could point at him. 

“Me? About Bertholdt and Annie?”

Mikasa nodded, turning back to face forward. 

“Annie is my twin sister. Bertholdt is my best friend.” 

She seemed satisfied with the answer, and they walked in silence the rest of the time. At least, until they approached the final stretch to the camp. 

“I can.”

Reiner startled, nearly dropping his stack, having to take a few extra stumbling steps to balance it out. “What, why didn’t you-?”

“Another time, maybe.” She headed into the camp, placing the logs beside the fire pit closest to them. Reiner was left staring after her, curious, despite everything in him telling him to forget it. Getting closer to any of them, enough to become interested, was going to mean trouble. Lot’s of it. 

He was beginning to realize they acted quite a bit like him. 

It wasn’t something he was prepared to face. 

After they ate, after he finished chewing the sinewy bits of rabbit meat in his stew, he laid down beside his sister and Bertholdt, and stared up at the starry sky. He knew what was waiting for him in his dreams, but being outside of them was a true hell too. He had to deal with Marcel in one, and _human_ devils in the other. 

Then he thought of the brown-haired soldier. 

His mind stopped its questions. 

Ymir was all the proof Reiner needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No extra information for now. I did look to see if there was a 104th infantry division, and there was, but they weren't stationed in southern Germany, so the 103rd worked instead. 
> 
> We meet the other trio! As well as Ymir, Hannes, and the four French civilians. More should be revealed in the next few chapters~


End file.
